


Bury Me in Tears

by WiFiH0o



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: But instead of teenagers it's women turning into women, Coming of Age, Corruption?, F/F, Gaslighting, Gothic, Hanahaki Disease, Handong is a Kim here, Has its own in universe rules, Possible Character Death, References the movie The Handmaiden, Set in a mansion, So: Kim Handong, SuA and JiU are named but not relevant sorry, TWs in notes, The OCs are the parents btw, There's only two mentioned, This is really dark and morbid, Yoodong are cousins, better women?, fucked up story, inspired by a lot of horror and gothic books and comics, melodramatic for no reason, morally gray characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25425064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiFiH0o/pseuds/WiFiH0o
Summary: Kim Handong kills. Not with guns or knives; but with poise, grace and seduction. Kim Handong kills with Hanahaki. Her garden of immortal flowers? A graveyard of her accomplishments.A gothic story where Handong silently watches as Yubin falls back in love with her childhood friend and there is certainly no way for this to end without tears or blood or flowers or death.
Relationships: Han Dong | Handong/Lee Yoobin | Dami, Kim Yoohyeon/Lee Yoobin | Dami
Comments: 14
Kudos: 27





	Bury Me in Tears

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of the story is spoiled with TW/CWs so if you're wary of them, go to the notes at the bottom
> 
> This one'll probably updated in the time it took for me to write the first draft of this to publication, let's see *checks Google Docs* So 2 months! Await diligently for the perfect ending please
> 
> Also, I really wanted to split this into chapters but it just doesn't flow well  
> ╮(︶▽︶)╭

At four years old, Handong’s mother found her daughter covered in sticky blood and surrounded by rocks. She took her away from the site immediately. What she didn’t know was that hidden behind the tall fence of their garden were the carcasses of three small birds and even sharper rocks that were conveniently just the right size for her tiny toddler hands.

At the age of six, Handong’s cousin was the talk of the town as she had fallen down the stairs by accident. Handong did not know why the younger girl that she had so purposely shoved from the top of her stairs had suddenly been talked about for clumsily tripping over her untied laces (you know our silly Yoohyeon), but she had not intended for her to be alive to hear about it nor be praised for smiling through the pain.

At around ten, Handong learned that in order for people to treat you well, you had to treat them well too. So she had tried to be nicer to her little cousin. It didn’t work. Yoohyeon never spoke to other people about the time her older cousin locked her in a cupboard, in the dark, alone, with no food or water. Handong didn’t see what was wrong with it - at the time anyway, later on, she’d learn to be more tactical when it came to human interactions - because instead of stoning her to death, or pushing her down the stairs to her death, Handong simply shoved her in a cupboard. She had even been kind enough to throw in her favourite doll - she even gave her a pillow!

Was that not shining altruism right there? Yoohyeon hadn’t even asked for them as well.

Resting her head in her hands, little Handong wondered why her parents didn’t decide to move into their new mansion sooner - looking at the staircase, Yoohyeon’s five year old body definitely would not have survived the long tumble and sudden stop and splatter on the marble floor. There would always be a next time she'd muse whenever the girl got too close to her.

At her second year in middle school, at fourteen, Handong had been confessed to by an older and taller boy. It had been painfully obvious he was the socially awkward type, a nerd, and not the popular ones like she was either. He said that he had liked her for years, developing a few incomplete flowers as the time that Handong didn’t even know he existed stretched longer and longer. Being very well used to complexities of what normal humans had to go through, Handong let him down gently - despite the urge to smash his entitled head in with a bat.

He did not listen. Which only meant one thing: she needed to crush his hopes and dreams. So she invited him out on a small coffee date and rejected him days afterwards.

When he kept coming after that day, desperate to get rid of the petals that he just kept coughing up, Handong had nearly grown tired of his insolence and nearly stabbed him with the house-keys she had gripped in between her knuckles - she could definitely spin it as self-defense, no?

Her nearlys were halted when she saw a whole rose miraculously come out of his throat. 

And at the age of fourteen, Handong fell in love with the way that flowers brought on by Hanahaki disease seemed to sparkle in the sunlight and glow under the dim light of the stars.

He died soon - apparently the ‘false hope’ Handong gave him on their date had sped up the process of succumbing to the disease, she’d note that down soon. As always, Handong felt no remorse, his pleads for her needing for her to love him back fell on deaf ears (but not really, because she loved the way his voice sounded as he weakened at every cough) and Handong only became more apathetic; she shouldn’t be forced to like someone back just because they were dying, wasn’t that emotional blackmail? And that was deemed ‘evil’ by society, no?

Behind the tall hedges of their new garden, Handong buried her very first flower: a red rose near the far right corner.

Of course, it wasn’t without any imperfections. Handong was never one to care about flowers too much, but she understood that after digging at the crumbly ground for hours with her bare hands, skin cracking because of how dry it was and blood seeping out from under the base of her nails, she’d probably at least need to learn how to germinate plants - or was that for seeds? And she’d need equipment. And this shabby overgrown area simply wouldn't do - it wasn’t doing the flower any justice.

It turned out, after another boy had so sadly and every bit as surprising as it was sad - which was zero - died due to Hanahaki disease from Handong, that those beautiful flowers didn’t need tending. They bloomed all season and not a petal did fall or leaf wilt.

The next flower was a secret confession from a girl.

Off handedly, burying her ribs and half a heart that was infested with daisies, Handong wondered why people were so drawn to her. Maybe it was the same reason people refused to believe her father was a narcissist; people loved his bravado and unshakable friendliness - not that Handong was overtly friendly as he was, she’d say that she was more subtle than him. Or how people adored and flocked to her mother much in the same manner they did with her father. Sycophants, each one of them. She was sure that if they weren’t rich, they’d have treated them like dirt.

At the age of fifteen, Handong found out just how quickly anything remotely sexual, even the hint of it or the whiff of its tension, brought Hanahaki out so much faster than any flirting or seducing could.

And the more people found out about the supposed cursed string of crushes following Handong, the 'Poison from Wuhan' they’d call her, the more people kept falling in love. People were wary of her, sure, but their wariness did nothing but incite more to find out about her. And intrigued, wrapped up in her mystery, they all thought ‘maybe I’ll be the one’.

They never were.

By the time she was eighteen, Handong had installed a round two tiered fountain in her garden right at the entrance, which was signalled by white arcs that had ivy growing up on them and a brush of thorns guarding their base. It was placed under a white dome held by four stone columns, a white stone path drew a neat large square and it was quartered, with the centre of the square, and where the four pathways would meet the paths connected by circling a lone red rose.

It had garnered some unwanted attention. For only a single attendant, it was large, perfectly kept in condition and the flowers seemingly bloomed all season.

After some people had begun to dig around for information about Handong, to do an article she supposed, people no longer were allowed to enter - the journalists ‘were worried’ about how Handong never completed her middle school education or how she hadn’t left the mansion in half a year or how she had bruises on her arms or how she was forced to dress a certain way - but the limited photos of the place still existed on the internet.

Plus, her garden had strict rules ever since the beginning: people couldn’t enter unless Handong was with them; people couldn’t touch the flowers; people couldn’t stray off the path or even lean past it; people couldn’t walk quickly - and what was deemed ‘quickly’ and what was entirely up to Handong, changing depending on the weather or season or humidity.

“Handong-ssi.”

A servant called out for her attention. It was Mr… She forgot his name. She didn’t need to memorise it anyway, seeing the faint blush and adjusting of his blazer she knew he’d join her collection soon.

Handong made sure to smile with her eyes when she turned around to him, “Please, how many times have I told you, call me Dongie.” An inauthentic sweetness dripped from her mouth as she finished her sentence and she playfully hit his arm.

“Okay Dongie,” He cleared his throat, “Here’s a list of the applicants of gardeners.”

He handed her a tablet and she took a few steps back - Handong made sure to ever so slightly brush her fingers with his when taking the device and to shyly smile and blush. Her head hurt from holding her breath to coax out that pink hue in her cheeks, but it was effective.

As Handong went through the settings to adjust the brightness of the screen (why did they always put it so dark?) she wondered what flower would grow inside of him. Seeing his straightened back and built nature, she mulled over the possibility of him being the first tree she’d have. Ah, she sorely wished she’d have some type of shrubbery or tree - her garden needed variety in not only shape and size and colour, but also height. It would make a stunning addition in the right corner of her garden, tucked behind the unscented orchids. Or maybe she should have a pond and have it near there.

The possibilities were endless.

Handong shook her head, no, if trees were possible the person would have to cough up branches, and even she winced at the thought of that.

Anyway, realising she had been staring out of space for too long, Handong snapped her attention back to the tablet in her hand, glancing over names and ages and occupations.

They got snagged on ‘Lee Yubin’. A music producer in their spare time. Interesting. Those musically inclined types always seemed to have their heads in the clouds and their heart on their sleeves - nothing that Handong really cared for other than the fact it would mean they'd be easy to read, ergo manipulate. The perfect victim to cultivate whilst… Whatever his name was dying.

So when Handong reached the last stair of those marble staircases and poised herself to so humbly and personally greet her new gardener - for the front of the mansion, not hers, don’t be ridiculous - she wholly did not expect to see a woman dressed in a pantsuit. Was Yubin not a man’s name? She swore she’d met male Yubins before. 

Crap, she realised that her face of shock was most definitely not the best first impression to have when trying to seduce anybody. It was fine anyway, she told herself, she’s had women fall on their knees as much as she did men.

Handong stopped her head from delving deep into anything that was going to distract her from her next victim. Right. Lee Yubin. Eye contact. Make eye contact and smile and wave and talk naturally. No more side tracking. God what was wrong with her for taking so long to engage in conversation. She was standing there with her jaw slack and eyes wide as she tried to fish for words.

Then Yubin gasped. Did she do something wrong?

Her lips parted and she began to speak. And instead of what should have been ‘Miss Han’ or her full name or a greeting or an introduction, the first word to come out of Yubin was:

“Hey! Yooh!”

She smiled as she waved her over. And her eyes shined with happiness as she spoke. Handong should not have felt that one syllable word, that one syllable name, to bite so much when shouted joyously by Yubin, but it did. It left a stinging emptiness inside of her.

“Yubinnie!”

From behind her, her tall cousin bumped against her shoulder as she ran to give her new employee a hug. For a split second, Handong considered pushing Yoohyeon ‘accidentally’ down the stairs later on that week - making sure that she’d actually die this time. But if she did so, the evidence would be hard to clear up.

Yoohyeon tripped over her own feet - pathetic, there was no way that Yubin could see any good in someone so stupid that they fell over their own apendages - right before she came within arms reach of Yubin, who was presumably her friend. Handong secretly hoped that Yubin was as much of a ‘friend’ to Yoohyeon as she was. But seeing how Yubin helped her up from the ground and dusted her hands over Yoohyeon’s legs and arms and back. Seeing her squeezing Yoohyeon, pressing their bodies together, and after their hug, leaning her head against her cousin’s shoulder, she felt something stir inside her stomach. And for the first time in twenty four years, Handong felt her heart beat with neither fear nor content.

“I told you not to call me that Yooh. You’re barely older than me.”

Yoohyeon only smiled, closing her eyes as she did so and shining her teeth in a way so natural that Handong almost came to hate it. “I just want to hear you call me ‘unnie’. Is that too much to ask for?”

“Yes it is, you big puppy.” Yubin wrapped her arm around Yoohyeon’s waist. And without breaking contact or lifting her head, she turned around to face Handong, “Oh, sorry Handong-ssi.” She stuck her hand out for a handshake. “I’m Lee Yubin, but you probably already know that.”

What Handog meant to do, as always, was smile, give a light handshake, lean forward, introduce herself, joke about how formal Yubin was being or ask open-ended questions about her life. Instead, she was frozen with envy and spoke stiffly, “It’s… Fine.”

Yoohyeon shot her cousin an incredulous look but paid no further heed to it.

*

Handong, aged seventeen, watched as the staff managing the mansion all congregated together to form a black wall of grief. They were all thinking the same thing: another one. Some of them were new and didn't know, didn't suspect anything. But the older ones, not in age, but in experience working under the Kims, all had the same fleeting suspicion which they never dared to utter out loud for fear of being fired.

She did it.

Kim Handong did it. She caused another death. They didn't know how or why or for what sick twisted motive, but they suspected nonetheless.

You see, death by Hanahaki was never listed as an official cause of death: suffocation, allergies, unknown illness, poisoning, natural death, cardiac arrest, heart attack, paralysation, they’d all be used in place of it. It was one of the reasons Handong could get away with it. And evidence was hardly there to support the theories anyway - petals faded into thin air soon after being coughed out (only their overgrown roots and fully bloomed matured flowers after death sticking around - usually incinerated though) and mandatory closed casket funerals after mandatory removal of organs simply meant that no one would know. 

And Handong couldn't care. What had been her misfit bundle of flower pots hoarded in one corner of her room and invading her walk-in closet and making an Eden Project out of her quarters was finally given an amazing dazzling home near the rose she had first planted.

It was Hye-Joo that requested it.

"Of course dear. You know how much I care. Plus, I don’t trust anyone other than you to keep it nice and pretty."

Maybe it had been an apology for neglecting her for the better part a week or so, but she didn't care why, it just mattered that she had a place for her previous flowers.

God she loved Hye-Joo.

*

After her complete and utter failure earlier that morning, Handong had decided to forgo her usual lunch in the evening and instead stroll through her garden - she needed alone time and the bustle of kitchen staff and maids and strangers she really ought to know the names of threw her thinking off rail, even if it were only a few whispers here and there. She wanted to scream so badly. Although her garden was not far enough to scream without being heard, she was free to do what she wanted to do or say, it provided her that much cover at least.

She crouched down and watered the flowers that were planted around the fountain. Truth be told, the Hanahaki flowers rarely needed tending, still, she found tranquility in the repetitive action of tilting her wrist and watching water spray out of her watering can though.

“Handong-ssi.”

That voice. She could tell from the light treds that someone was behind her, and she knew who it was. Whom else could it belong to other than her Lee Yubin. After staring at her through her mother's dusty binoculars she had memorised every small detail of what Yubin looked like today: she knew that if she turned around, she’d face the sight of a tired looking Yubin in blue overalls and white-red gloves with a soft smile on her face that eluded to her naivety of the graveyard she was standing in front of.

(Did she really go through the trouble of walking around the mansion and all the way to the corner where bushes hid the existence of Handong’s sadistic hobby?

And for what?)

“Is it okay if I enter?”

Handong didn’t turn around, though she was glad that she asked for permission, something even Hye-Joo neglected to do. “Yes.”

It had been a long time since another person other than Hye-Joo had laid eyes on anything past the hedges that protected her garden, let alone set foot past those white columns and arches. It felt uneasy. She couldn't truly trust anyone other than her.

Yubin sat right across from her and on the edge of the fountain, looking at the flowers that Handong was tending to.

“I’ve always wondered why people talked so much about this place. I saw some pictures of it online you know.”

“... Cool.”

Really? That was the epitome of enticement she could do? Well, nothing was going to plan anyway. She knew that if she truly had wanted Yubin dead and buried, she’d be sitting next to her, oh so casually brushing her hands or asking her to compare their hand sizes, she’d be giggling and pushing her playfully and starting every sentence with a sweet and song-like ‘Yubinnie’.

“For such a small place, it has so much… Umm. Spirit? It’s calm.”

Handong smiled, which was a dead giveaway to the beginning of her downfall, because she didn’t smile unless she wanted someone to feel guilty or warm or welcomed or accepted; but, still having not looked up or even turned to face Yubin, inspecting how the waves of petals in her yellow chrysanthemums spiralled and captured water droplets, Handong found herself smiling.

“Handong-ssi.”

Handong hummed.

“Do you not like me?”

Handong felt a rush of something daring strike her and stiffen her muscles up.

“I don’t see why you need to know.”

Yubin didn’t push for an answer. She left slowly, letting her eyes wander at the hanging plants.

For the second day she worked - Yubin worked three times a week, she’d know because she hired her - Handong busied herself with watching Yubin from her bedroom window, which was oh so conveniently placed so that she could stare all she wanted at her little gardener with her going out of view.

That day, she wore a thin flannel that somehow never dirtied despite her working with soil and replanting things all day. 

Handong could deny all she wanted, but when she woke up from her dream that night, extremely aroused and with the image of Yubin flushed red and unabashedly naked on top of her, Handong knew that something was so so very wrong with her. And maybe the fact that, when Yubin got tired, she exposed the white halter top underneath and her bare shoulders and collarbone, the devious things her brain did with that image was understandable.

Never in her life did she think she’d be so affected by seeing someone’s exposed shoulders, but laying in bed, after her incredibly vivid wet dream, Handong knew well just how distracting skin could be.

Very.

God she wondered what it was like to clasp her hands on those shoulders and drag her hands lower and lower and lower until she coerced whimpering and whining and moaning.

.

Handong had a plan.

Yubin met her in front of the white arches that told the world that this was where Handong’s iron fist ruled. It was the first time since their short introduction with each other that they faced one another properly; and even then, Handong’s blank face looked everywhere but at Yubin’s.

Her so-called plan went to flames as soon as she stepped forward, stumbled on the empty ceramic pots to her right and a pebble rolled under her heels as she tried to regain balance by stepping forward.

She fell into a briar bush. Thankfully, she had sense enough to put her arms out to not fall face first, but they soon slipped on the blood she was letting out and her foot did a thing so that a leg slid under her and before she could do anymore harm to herself, she felt two cold rubbery things sandwich her body and stop it from falling.

God her dress was going to be ruined.

And it stung. Impossibly badly.

Of all the things to happen, Handong did not expect herself to be hauled up and over the impeccable shoulders of Yubin's and be set down on the fountain gently; and she certainly did not expect to find it so charming when Yubin hurried off to find a first aid kit - and she might have swooned, but that was definitely because of the pain she was going through, no?

When she came back to tend to her wounds, Handong found herself looking down at a Yubin who was busy plucking thorns out of her legs.

When Yubin asked her to spread her legs open wider so she could properly wrap her injuries, Handong found herself panicking, before blushing despite not having held her breath.

And when she felt the soft hands of Yubin run a wet antibacterial wipe up and down her, Handong could not stifle the short moan that left her lips that was almost trained into her.

And if Yubin heard it amongst the rustling of leaves and Handong’s clipped breathing, she made a point not to react.

.

“You don’t like Yoohyeon.”

So succinct, so honest, so bold. Handong would be lying to herself if she were to say she didn’t like those traits - her traits.

Truth be told, Handong was trying really extremely hard to like her cousin, she just couldn’t. The most she could do was tolerate her and not find her annoying - hey, sometimes she could be funny, usually on accident though - but when she saw that giant lap dog hugging the life out of Yubin, chatting to her, bumping her head with Yubin’s as they leaned in to look at the same thing at the same time, making her laugh and double over and slap the floor over and over again as they both tried to contain their happiness, Handong’s irritation began to fester.

Handong couldn’t help how irked she was and she couldn’t help it when it manifested in a complete door slam of Yoohyeon’s attempts to hang out with her, nor the passive aggressive quips that just flowed out of her mouth whenever she saw her cousin that seemed to rile Yoohyeon up, but never enough to make her burst. 

Handong hadn’t faced Yubin since the incident last week. Her palms would definitely have scars where thorns had snapped whilst burying deep into her hand. It hurt when clenching them, but Handong didn’t mind the pain so much.

She stared at where she guessed the worse ones would be, her hands were bandaged well and tight - she was supposed to change them, but if she did, it would mean that it wouldn’t be the bandages that Yubin used or the bandages Yubin touched.

“No, I don’t like anyone. Yoohyeon just happens to be someone.”

“Then you could at least try to be more civil about it. You don’t act like that to me.”

Ever so insightful and attentive that one. “Get out.”

Yubin followed her command well and left.

.

That servant was finally beginning to cough up feasible petals.

Handong found the clumps of the precious stuff unceremoniously sweeped into a paper bag and thrown away - tch, careless. But despite the littering he did, Handong had begun to be in a cheery mood, humming some pop song she didn’t quite know all the lyrics to because she’d just zone out and focus on the instruments.

Had was the keyword.

“Mr Park has Hanahaki disease.”

Oh, that was his name? She swore it was like Jung or something. 

Well, no matter his name, Handong couldn’t help the smile that formed on her face when she replied back to her favourite intruder, “I know.” She didn’t bother to hide the flippant tone she said it with.

The wind blew past and a few of the small pink petals in her hands danced away to disintegrate somewhere.

They were azaleas. Beautiful salmon pink azaleas with striking magenta filaments. And her first shrub. Her smile grew wider. She couldn’t wait to make those flowers a permanent resident of her garden.

“Aren’t you concerned?” She wondered how tiring it was to feel so much for other people. Very: she’d think.

“Well, it’s not like we can do much.” Something inside Handong compelled her to speak her mind unfiltered and unadulterated despite the ample amount of paranoia she’d always feel when confiding in someone that wasn’t Hye-Joo - she wasn't meant to trust Yubin with them. But she did, “If the person he likes can’t love him back, who’s to blame?”

Yubin shifted, scuffing her shoes on stone tiles. She didn’t comment back at Handong’s brutal honesty. Maybe it was a touchy subject, it always seemed to be.

“Have you ever had Hanahaki?”

Handong whipped her head. A strangely personal question.

Her body followed her turn and she hid her hands behind her back. She stared at the point in the middle of Yubin’s brows. “Hmm, you tell me first.”

“Once: I had it once.” Yubin averted her gaze down, as if contemplating whether or not to elaborate on it, then stared with an intensity tenfold of that of Handong’s, “When I was young.”

Yubin ended up not elaborating.

Something tickled her throat. She swallowed dryly, not knowing why it didn’t relieve any of her uncomfortableness, “No I haven’t. And I doubt I’ll get it.”

Handong realised that that sentence would have been better off spoken with arrogance than meekness.

Yubin took a step forward, eyebrow raised in bemusement,“What - do you mean?”

“I -” She didn’t know why, but there was just this blocking force that was stopping Handong from lying and she didn’t know whether what was going to come out of her mouth would do anything to free her from the corner she just trapped herself into, “It’s hard.”

Yubin only looked more confused, and if Handong was correct in seeing that little shift in her eyebrow, more keen to judge her. She tightened her grip around the leaves and petals, it hurt, but distracted her enough to not blabber about anything, “I mean that I can’t - don’t - fall in love… Quickly.”

She needed to distract Yubin. “You know… I’m sure my cousin’s told you about me in middle school being called-”

“A bitch?”

She let out a belated laugh, a strangely morbid thing to laugh at - what was stranger was that Handong felt compelled to laugh too, despite only finding it slightly funny. “I’m kidding. ‘Poison of Wuhan’. I didn’t think that she was telling the truth. Yooh tends to exaggerate stuff for entertainment.” The little chuckle of disbelief that Yubin did made what Handong thought was endearment shine in her pupils.

It left Handong breathless and it took away the little hope she had.

*

At fifteen, Handong heard the familiar words of 'I care about you' and 'I can't trust them' and 'you can't trust them' come from her mother's mouth.

It was regarding her request to have a sleepover with a classmate. It was less to befriend them than it had been to seduce them, but her mother disapproved of it. Nevertheless, Handong ran away from her house to attend it anyway.

Handong had enjoyed it. It was loud despite only being the two of them and it was such a stark change to the forced silence her father expected everyone to have that only allowed quiet information to be passed on and the sound of footsteps and shuffling to echo everywhere and surround and enclose Handong.

When Handong came back, treasuring the sight of her friend attempting to hide her hideous coughs from her, she came home to dead silence.

When she sought out and apologised to Hye-Joo, she was pushed back and looked down on. 

"You acted as if you didn't have loved ones worrying sick for hours. You acted as if my words were nothing. You ignore me even though I've always been right. No more dear. You're a mature person, understand the consequences to your actions."

Not a wave, a friendly 'morning', a hug of relief, a pretty packed lunch box or meal shared together was given to Handong for a week.

After her sixth day of going hungry in school, her ban from the kitchen after lines were found littering her arms biting her back, she begged for the old Hye-Joo back.

Disobedience from her was rare ever since.

Especially not after Handong was unable to collect the hyacinths she had been cultivating inside her classmate because she moved away abruptly with harsh words of spite and hatred thrown at her by not only her family, but also Minji herself: 'You're fucked up Dongie. You're sick. You're twisted in the head. I wish you the best in getting better, but not for you, but for your next victims.'

With pockets full of bribes, and ears whispered into by a certain envious person, they left.

"I told you you couldn't trust them." Hye-Joo patted Handong as Handong struggled to hold back tears. "You only have me in the end."

*

Handong found it funny for her to be coughing up flowers from a tree of all things. It was funny because those things, some sort of weird lily or whatever, were short, they’re even classified as shrubs depending on who you asked or what website you’d visit; she’d always envisioned her first tree to be tall and sturdy. What she got was a tree that barely grows past half a metre in height. She had yet to find out if coughing up branches was a thing though.

From her high window, Handong sat on the windowsill and let one of her legs dangle over the edge. She wondered how much damage she’d sustain if she just leaned over too far. Maybe she’d die if she jumped instead.

Her eyes roamed around the front of the mansion. Despite the multitude of things she could look at: the moving furniture in preparation for the social gathering being held soon; the rushing planners; the large potted ferns being swapped out for something for something more suitable for the black tie event; the long trail of boxes of food being delivered to and fro, Handong found her eyes gravitating towards Yubin, and how she was giving Yoohyeon a piggyback and running amok around the bushes.

Their combined laughter was loud enough that she could hear it even with her window closed, so she opted to open it - because if she was going to hear their stupid laughter, she may as well listen to Yubin’s loud and clear, even if Yoohyeon’s mixed in with it too. 

It stopped.

“-ndong-ssi!”

“Dong Dong! Dong Dong!”

Her head snapped to the waving duo.

God they looked so happy. Yubin unceremoniously dumped Yoohyeon, who was previously flapping her arms out widely and swinging her legs too hard, on the floor before the younger woman was able to lose her balance. When Handong started to cough, she retreated to her room, not sparing either of the two a glance. And as she reached over to shut her window, she heard a snippet of their conversation.

“Don’t worry, she’s always like that.”

“I hope not.”

.

“You told Yoohyeon to fuck off.” It was a statement. Even despite being so far away, Yubin was able to hear the jarring way that Handong shut Yoohyeon’s friendly greeting down. Had she really followed her all the way into her garden to confront her like that?

Handong hummed, shoving her trowel into soil that she knows is just much too alkaline for any type of rhododendron to flourish in; it’s not like the azaleas she was burying were going to mind anyway. The thought that Yubin might be able to spot bits of flesh and bone mixed into the compacted soil flashed in her mind before she brushed it off.

Because Yubin had gotten rid of the briar bush, Handong decided that it would be best to plant her azaleas where they used to be - one lung per side and the other pieces of him that she couldn’t quite get rid of were… were going to be used as compost she supposed.

“She was invading my personal space.” That one was not a lie. It may have sounded like one, but Handong’s definition of personal space was much larger than others.

Yubin frowned, but made a point not to make Handong talk further about it. “Are they for Mr Park?”

A smile flickered at the edge of Handong’s lips, how nice of Yubin to think that she could remotely have the capacity to care about someone. “No.”

Yubin crossed her arms, not entirely convinced. To her, it seemed to be a nice gesture, though quite insensitive considering the nature of his death, to commemorate her dead colleague; to Handong, it was another piece to add to her collection of conquests.

The top of Handong’s head felt light for a moment as something pulled on the hair of her crown. She twisted her body and looked up to see Yubin’s face in concentration as she lifted a petal off her head.

“Wait.” Yubin lifted and scrutinised the white petal with crinkled bright fuschia edges, “Don’t these flowers bloom in winter-”

“My family’s holding a charity event next week.”

A rush of adrenaline shot to her head as Yubin took a step back, looking slightly concerned as Handong blurted out the first thing that came to her head.

“Are you going to come?”

Yubin pulled her face in deep thought, finally answering after a few too many seconds of silence (it was six), “I don’t think so. Unless Yoohyeon’s able to bring me along somehow.”

Handong knew it was a bad idea. “Use my ticket. I don’t want to go.” And with her gloved, slightly bloody hands, she pulled out her ticket with more haste than she really had ought to and grabbed Yubin’s hand with a little too much power. She opened her hand and pressed the laminated slip of paper onto her palm, not letting go of her hand until she realised too late that she was supposed to.

For the first time, Yubin smiled because of Handong, it was a wry one with a hint of condescension. “But it’s your event, why aren’t you attending?”

“It’s my parents’ event, though it's probably my father's doing, actually. He likes to pretend I don’t exist.” 

“Oh... I’m sorry.”

Handong didn’t see why Yubin was being sorry, it didn’t fix anything or help her situation or even lighten the constant weight on her chest.

.

The bathroom was big, in fact, it was almost half the size of Handong’s bedroom - which was very large. The bath itself was too big for a single person to fit into it comfortably. Right now, it had a crouching Handong hugging herself on the corner, where she had yet to touch the water, next to bottles of bathing products and essential oils.

“Why did you give Yubin your invite?”

It was hours into the beginning of the charity event, a peculiar thing to call it since if the people there truly were charitable in any feasible way, they wouldn’t be rich enough to hold such extravagant events.

Yoohyeon barged into Handong’s bathroom; it was separate from the hallway and only accessed by going through her bedroom - which she specifically remembered that she had locked, or maybe she was remembering wrong. But Handong didn’t seem to mind how Yoohyeon had miraculously tracked her down and gotten into her room or how it left her vulnerable and naked, literally, to any guest that somehow stumbled into the end of the corridor at the top of the stairs after turning right.

Handong swallowed, the thick sap that came from the tree branches still clinging onto her throat from when she had coughed small twigs out and her heart doing a thing when she was able to get rid of it.

“She sounded like she wanted to go.”

Yoohyeon’s eye twitched, “I thought you didn’t like Yubin. You ‘don’t like anyone’.”

Handong scoffed, “If I didn’t like her, I would’ve fired her.”

Yoohyeon grew tense as what seemed to be anger flared in her eyes, then she let it go, her voice mellowing. “I told you that I wanted her to be my date.”

When? Oh, maybe that’s what she was trying to say earlier, a few days before she told her to so kindly ‘fuck off’, but she had stuttered and mumbled and stopped halfway through, so how was Handong possibly meant to interpret any cohesive thought out of it?

Hm, it was interesting to see the two, Yubin and Yoohyeon, go back and forth without anyone of them making any moves, maybe they were scared of contracting Hanahaki, but Handong knew about Hanahaki, and denying feelings makes things worse, as did falling more in love; all good tactics to speed up the process of dying. The only thing that stopped it was cutting off any contact with the person.

Nevertheless, if one of them didn’t like the other, they’d probably be dead by now. So what was stopping them?

Her cousin left when she realised she couldn’t get anything more to come out of Handong’s mouth.

She wondered if Yoohyeon noticed the petals and twigs floating about the bath. If she did, she didn’t say much about it. They’d disappear soon anyway.

Handong dipped her legs into the hot water and swirled her feet around. An uncomfortable sensation tugging inside her ribcage. It felt painfully familiar, its forceful nature made Handong heave and she swore she heard something. She swiped the tiny specks of blood around her mouth as she finally got rid of the branch that had been making its way up her trachea. How she had managed to cough up branches before any leaves or full flowers was ridiculous.

Damn, it had been a few hours since she’d first hacked them out. Somehow, the idea that bathing would help soothe the pain came to mind and honestly, anything other than making an appearance downstairs would be calming. She coughed more, this time, only petals.

Handong finally slipped into the tub after some deliberation, but not before:

“Hando- Oh my God I’m so sorry!”

It was Yubin. Who was now covering her eyes and looking away from what she had just seen.

“It’s fine.”

She submerged herself and took in a deep breath.

“I heard you coughing and -”

“It’s fine.”

“I just wanted to make sure that you’re -”

“It’s fine.”

Yubin stopped, shook by how Handong was apathetic to her worry and health. She cleared her throat as she tried to regain her composure.

“I wanted to thank you for the invite. I didn’t when you gave me it and I felt really guilty.”

Yubin adjusted her tie. Handong didn’t know whether she prefered Yubin in a suit or Yubin in her casual wear, so she decided that they were both good in their own ways.

“You can turn around Yubin, we’re both girls.”

Yubin… It felt nice to say her name. Yubin turned around, though very reluctantly, only to see a very drowsy looking Handong. She had sunk into the bathtub, head, but importantly her nose, barely above the surface, threatening to drown herself if she lost her footing.

“Yubin.”

“Yea?”

“Yubin.”

“Yes?”

“Yubin...”

Handong felt light headed as she kept repeating her name over and over again. She could feel her body slip down and down as she began to feel lethargic and nausea hit her like a freight train. Yubin rushed over to stop Handong from sliding further down into the water. Handong felt Yubin’s soft dainty hands on her again, this time, they were under her shoulders and she was pulling her up.

“I’ll go call for yo-”

“Stay with me.”

Handong didn’t know why or how, but she found Yubin staying in the bathroom, despite all the bitterness and harshness she always spoke to or about her cousin or the bluntness and rudeness she always ended their conversations with.

Yubin leaned over the edge of the tub, inhaling the sweet and citrusy smell that was diffusing everywhere, occasionally blowing a stray bubble that passed by. Ah, it felt… so awkward.

“Do you want to join me?”

That may have been the dumbest thing to come out of Handong’s mouth in a while.

“Sure. I’m sleeping over in Yooh’s room anyway.”

Right. Of course. Handong had almost forgotten about her cousin, and how she was temporarily occupying one of the guest rooms. She should have seen that coming and she certainly should not have let that disappointment linger inside her for as long as she did.

Handong knew it was courteous to look away when someone was changing but she really could not help herself when her eyes wandered across Yubin’s body as she started to strip. Not that she tried much to look away anyway. Plus, it didn’t seem like Yubin minded - which was because Yubin didn’t notice her pointed staring, her back to Handong and all, but you lose some you win some. And Handong had to actively remind herself to pick up her dropped jaw and stop her eyes from looking Yubin up and down when she turned around to join her in the bath.

Patting the space in front of her, Handong motioned for Yubin to sit on her lap. Yubin did so with little to no hesitation. If Handong was not currently experiencing low-blood pressure, she would have scrambled out of the bath, but she just drearily stared at Yubin’s face in extreme confusion.

“The doctors say that I have low empathy, bordering on sociopathy.”

Yubin looked caught off guard as Handong began spilling things that she had never told anybody. She relaxed her body as she listened further.

“It’s hard for me to feel things.”

Handong pulled Yubin closer, almost yanking her with how much force she put into it. She ran her fingers through Yubin’s soft short hair - it had been so long since Handong had short hair, she almost couldn’t remember what it was like to not feel hair constantly on her neck or shoulders or the breeze prickle her neck. It was nice, she didn’t like the attention though.

"Is that why you bully Yoohyeon?"

So, Handong might have been excessively forceful when she almost crushed Yubin at the mention of her cousin. She pulled her closer yet and rested her chin on Yubin’s head. Her heart was beating so much slower than any normal human being’s should, but right here, with Yubin’s cheeks resting on her bosom, she sighed contently.

“It’s funny to.”

Handong found herself waking up in her pink bathrobe laid out on her bed. Did she fall asleep? Then she heard some commotion from the bathroom. Yubin’s head peaked out of the door as she began to ask for a towel.

Then a loud knock stopped their unstarted conversation.

“Yoohyeon I swear if that’s you-”

A male voice came from the other side.

“Dongie?”

Hearing that fake kindness in his voice froze her. Knowing that he only used that tone of voice when needing something from her.

“Y-yes.”

The knocks became heavy bangs, “Open the door!”

“It’s - it’s open.”

The sound of springs unwinding filled Handong’s ears with unwanted dread as the door was pushed open slowly. She didn’t have to look up to know that the door had been opened then shut and locked; the usual two clicking sounds, the second one heavier, telling everything that she needed to know.

“How’s my Dongie doing, you how much I care about you, right?” Lies. Only Hye-Joo cared.

He looked like he always did. Angular, squarish, a muscular brute through and through with dark dark hair but such light coloured eyes. She hated them. So light and bright that the moon could clearly be seen reflected in them.

Handong looked towards the bathroom, seeing a hesitating Yubin dart her eyes back from Handong to the tall senior man she was sure she’d seen before and was currently roughly ruffling Handong’s damp hair with more force than he really ought to.

“Answer me you piece of shit.”

“I - I’m fine.”

The ruffling stopped and his arm twitched back. Shit.

“I mean I'm doing really well.” Still no reply, and even worse. “I’m doing really well, dad.”

Her dad sighed and waltzed towards her walk-in closet.

He tutted in disappointment and lowered his voice, “‘Fine’ isn’t good enough Handong. What did I do to make you so unhappy that you won't do one simple favour for me? Am I not good enough to call your dad? I work so hard to maintain a reputation and work countless hours a week to afford everything you use, I even made this party all for you!"

More lies. They seemed to come natural to him. She never could trust him. She never could trust most of anyone really.

Handong swallowed all of her snarky remarks down, she knew by now that they did nothing, and the fun she’d get from antagonising him was not worth the humiliation she’d get afterwards - especially now that she had an audience. She wished he'd hurry up and tell her what exactly he came here for.

He flung the doors of the closet open, snarling at what he saw. “All you do is buy clothes and order useless things online.” His hands rifled through her coats and jackets that were so neatly arranged by fabric and colour and occasion and he messed them up as he carelessly put them back wherever - or giving up when he couldn’t hang it on the first time and threw it to the ground. “Look, no one will care, just pick anything from here and go, it’s not that hard Dongie. What would Hye-Joo say about this?"

A shiver crawled it's way up her spine.

Hye-Joo… She did recall her wanting to come. She did recall her wanting to attend, if only to make a short appearance and go. 

She should - she should probably go, she didn't want her to lose her faith in her.

But before she could think things properly, he approached the bathroom. Yubin’s eyes widened as she heard footsteps get closer to her.

“Stop! I mean wait. I mean... I’ll go!”

She took a shaky breath, feeling a flapping petal that was stuck on her throat.

“I’ll go.”

.

“Are you okay?”

Handong did not know if she meant mentally or physically or emotionally and Handong did not have time for this bullshit. 

“Handong-ssi, are you okay?”

God, for the love of God would she shut up?

“Handong, you know that you don’t need to do this if you don’t want to.”

Yubin, wrapped in a towel, grabbed Handong’s arm, which was busy trying to sort through the drawers that her father had not touched. Handong jerked it off her.

“What the fuck do you want from me! You don’t even care about me, all you care about is Yoohyeon.”

She stayed silent.

“Yoohyeon this, Yoohyeon that. I want the best for Yoohyeon, I want Yoohyeon’s cousin to stop being mean to her. Stop acting like you care about me.”

Her compliance only affirmed Handong’s beliefs. 

.

Handong found it hard to keep smiling and nodding and having small talk with strangers that she didn’t know the names or faces of, nor that she’d remember afterwards.

She tugged at the hem of her dress, it was tight - too tight for her liking. Then she remembered that she wasn’t meant to fidget with her hands or clothes or hair (Dongie dear, it makes people think that you’re nervous or that you don’t want to talk to them).

And it really shouldn’t have been that hard, she’d been doing this for ages, it was nearly second-hand to her. She’d seen her dad do it so many times and if not him, all the other socialites were just shining beacons of natural and instinctual extrovertedness and socially accepted behaviour ripe for her to imitate.

But all she could do was think about Yubin.

“Handong-ssi?”

Right. Her face, she was meant to be smiling. Handong picked up the smile she had dropped stone cold when her head drifted off to Yubin. “Sorry, I just thought that I saw someone.”

“Ah, is it perhaps an ex?” The woman, Handong thinks she recognises her but alas, her facial recognition fails her, nudged her shoulders in jest.

Handong fought the urge to roll the ever loving crap out of her eyeballs. Instead she pushed her cheeks into her eyes and smiled, ensuring that she showed just the top row of her teeth, “Haha, well, if only I had boyfriends to make exes. You know me,” Does she really though? “Single as I’ve ever been; I guess my expectations are just too high.”

The woman chortled in response, “Nonsense, my dear, high expectations or no, you’d have to have liked someone before. You can tell me, Dongie, it’ll be our little secret.” She winked as she sipped at her glass of champagne. Straight from ‘Handong-ssi’ to ‘Dongie’. Hmm, overachieving, probably here to reach her claws deeper and network with the higher ups.

Handong laughed, not too loudly, not too long, just enough to give her the satisfaction of entertaining the ‘ice princess’. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find someone,” she paused dramatically, “Hopefully sooner rather than later.” 

"Haha - I love your nails by the way.” She leaned forward and took Handong’s hand in hers, invading her personal space - as if she hadn’t already done so already.

She hoped that the arising crooked smile dispelled any of the fear she felt as something decided to slump all of their body weight onto her back.

“Dong Dooooong.”

In front of all these people, telling Yoohyeon to go and find the toilets so she could get her shit together was definitely not a great idea. Instead, she let her slide her tall body down on her own and her head roll onto her shoulder.

“Dong Donggg. Where’s Yubin? I can’t find her. She’s - she’s meant to be here. Do you think she’s hiding? Ooh! What if we’re playing hide and seek… And if she’s the hider… Which then means that I’m the seeker - ererer.”

Handong cringed inwardly as she raised her arm and patted the drunk Yoohyeon leaning onto her, “Yooh, you don’t even drink.”

“Yea! But Yubin’s been hiding. And I can’t find her. I’m such a bad seeker Dong Dong Dong. Why is she hiding from me? I just want to see her face and her suit and her face and her face. Y’know.”

Fuck. Why did she have to deal with this now? Handong excused herself from her conversation and grabbed Yoohyeon’s arm and dragged her up the stairs, extremely tempted to chuck her off or ‘slip’ and fall and drop Yoohyeon to her death. But that wouldn’t do any good, not surrounded by all these people.

She plopped Yoohyen down after debating whether or not to go to her room or her cousin's, in the end, she chose to go to her own, knowing she needed to clean the havoc that it was in anyway.

And when she entered, it was in the exact horrendous conditions it was left in, she didn’t know why she expected it to look better - hey, maybe her dislike of her father had warped her perception of his damage. 

Softly, she heard a voice through the bathroom door, “Handong-ssi?”

Shit. She had forgotten about Yubin, well, her predicament anyway.

“I’ll go and fetch you a change of clothes.”

Suit, suit. She needed a suit. She had plenty considering it was what her mother preferred her to wear.

"I have spare clothes in Yoohyeon's room."

Right. That made sense. They were having a sleepover afterwards.

"It's the…" Yubin cleared her throat and barely squeaked out, "Panda onesie."

Handong did not watch Yubin change this time, as she really did not want to open the door wide enough for Yubin to see her so pathetically mope about whilst tidying her room.

She started to clear things up, carefully arranging the accessories strewn on the floor back into order, taking her time to correct little mistakes she made the last time she had taken them out.

A door creaked open and for a second, Handong froze. 

Out popped a tiny Yubin whose face was nearly entirely covered by a hood with a panda's face. Only now did she realise how ridiculous it was going to be to sneak Yubin all the way from one side of the corridor to the other dressed like that. So she laughed.

Her laugh dropped when Yoohyeon flung herself onto Yubin, giggling deliriously. "Yubinnn. You look so handsome." She stroked her arm up and down and up and down. Her face contoured into one of confusion, "Wait, am I hallucinating or are you a panda?"

"I'm wearing a panda onesie but I am not a panda."

"Whatever, if they're pyjamas, I want to see you off them, if you're a panda, well, I'll kidnap you for Yubin to see."

"Yooh, it's time for you to go to sleep."

Yoohyeon sulked and slumped onto Yubin's shoulder, "But my bedtime's not until eleven!"

.

Handong was sleeping on the floor. Well, sleeping was not the right word for it, she was cursing her existence and everyone else's as she stared at the ceiling in the pitch dark as she listened to Yoohyeon shift closer to Yubin. 

It was so loud.

She'd mumbled sweet words and compliments in her sleep and Yubin would say them back, because she was nice like that - and because for some reason, she hadn't fallen asleep.

"Handong?"

Some otherworldly force enacted her to reply instead of staying silent. "Yes."

"You know that that's not true, right?"

"No."

"I do like you, I'm not trying to get close to you because of Yoohyeon." She didn't know why, but those words hurt. Not because of the words themselves, but the tone it was said with, a gentle guilt ridden tone. Handong didn’t want to say it, nor believe it, but she was lying.

The more she talked, the more she could feel that darned petal emerge from her lungs, "Stop lying."

"I mean it."

"Shut up!"

Yubin sighed and, presumably, by the small whine from an unconscious Yoohyeon and the sliding of fabric, sat up. "What do I have to do to convince you, to make you trust me?"

"There’s nothing." There was only one person she could trust.

"Handong."

"Yes."

"Don't believe everything your dad says." As if she didn't already know that.

*

Thirteen, Handong first felt the sensation of paralysation via fear.

For so long, her father had threatened to hit her, or worse, to hit the only person who seemed to care about her, her mother. But he never went through with it. He was too much of a coward. All bark, no bite.

Handong hated that about him. If he was going to say something, he should at least commit himself to it.

Then, he did.

It was jarring for Handong to see him warn her multiple times and then, instead of turning tail and yell his anger away, he hit her.

He was as shocked as Handong was.

"You're so mature, my precious Dongie." Her mother patted her head as Handong brought out a bag of frozen peas that she really should not have access to considering her recent ban from the kitchen and placed it onto the emerging bruise on her mother’s face.

"I love you mom - ah I mean-"

Handong felt her wrist being grabbed harshly, "I told you not to call me that."

*

Handong was in her bath, trying in vain to drown her feelings. Who was Yubin to tell her what to do?

Besides trying to drown out her feelings, she was also trying to drown out the sounds of the two childhood friends hitting each other, whispering to each other, reminiscing to each other and generally flirting. It was disturbing.

'You'll wake up Handong.'

'It's fine, she's a deep sleeper.'

Was what she woke up to. Those hushed voices and giggles. Those loving words and expressions. She wanted to end them all, however violent and destructive it would be.

Maybe she could just 'accidentally' slip and kill herself. The door was definitely locked. Yubin and Yoohyeon were busy laughing or talking or play fighting or whatever. 

The petal that jammed into her throat as she prepared to sink deep into her self pity forever was not part of her plan.

It made her panic. And flail. And hyperventilate. And most importantly, it made her inhale water. Handong had read once that drowning was peaceful, almost euphoric. But Handong had also once heard of how long and painful drowning could be through a podcast. People could never make their minds up it seemed.

The first thing that stood out most to her was how much water could burn her nose and mouth and throat and chest despite how it could put fires out and extinguish flames. The second thing was that the first thing her body did when it took in water was to cut off her breathing entirely. Not a scream or a word or a sound. How could she if her vocal chords were tightly shut and her larynx refusing to budge.

It turns out, she had not locked the bathroom door - she really did need to do something about that - as Yubin and Yoohyeon rushed to her side and dragged her out of the bath despite Handong's frantic kicking and punching and general intent to harm, though they were quite unintentional - except for the ones aimed at Yoohyeon.

Now, Handong couldn't hear very well, or see very well either, with everything being clogged by water and pain, but she could definitely tell that the person pacing around like a fool and blabbering about how she didn't want her to die was Yoohyeon. Which meant that the person giving her chest compressions was Yubin. Which meant that the person giving her mouth-to-mouth was Yubin.

Handong shoved Yubin off her as soon as she could, feeling another sly petal coming up her throat.

She coughed.

"Get out."

It was Yoohyeon that interjected, "But Dong Dong, you need medical attention - you nearly died!"

"Get out! Both of you!"

Handong coughed, glad to see that it was only water, still feeling that wretched burning in her lungs and airway and voice box and nose and mouth.

"Handong-ssi, this is serious."

"And so am I. Get out."

"Yooh, please leave this room, I need to have a talk with Handong, alone."

"But-" Yoohyeon looked down at Yubin and the wet shivering Handong, "Fine."

When the both of them heard the door slam shut, Yubin started, "Handong. Get help. I know that it was intentional."

"It wasn't. I mean. It was at first but then…"

Handong attempted to sit up, but was stopped by a coughing fit. Shit. She was beginning to feel light-headed and the world around her spun as the feeling of needing to sneeze began to tickle her nose.

Yubin helped her stay upright as Handong wobbled by putting her hands on her bare shoulders. "What do you mean 'at first'?"

"I-" And just before Handong had finally been able to get her shit together enough to lie to Yubin for the first time, the universe decided to fuck her over by making her cough again. This time, it was not water.

There were cracking sounds. It was another branch. This one came with clusters of full flowers. Her body had been kind enough to make the branch weak and short. 

"You - you have Hanahaki."

"Shut up."

"It looks bad."

"Shut up."

"How long?"

"Shut up!" Handong pounced on top of Yubin, "Just shut your stupid mouth for once! I’m so sick of every single-”

Another barrage of coughs, this time, she had been squeezed dry of petals and they tumbled down onto Yubin's face. As did tears. She couldn’t keep herself together enough to not collapse onto Yubin a sobbing mess.

"It wasn’t supposed to be this way! I'm not supposed to feel things, Yubin! So why am I falling in love? How can I even fall in love when all I ever see is pain? And suffering. And evil. And - and-"

“Love is funny like that Handong-ssi.”

.

Love was not funny. Funny was seeing people’s faces switch from calm clear skies to turbulent thunderclouds in under a second as you push the right buttons and reveal their true colours. Funny was seeing how people desperately tried to be nice to you and do things out of their way to impress you and try to climb up the socio-economic ladder. Funny was seeing people unable to contain their raised eyebrows as they laid eyes on her and saw how she completely subverted their idea of what a lonely hermit could look like. And most of all, funny was watching people suffer.

“Dong Dong!” Yoohyeon practically screeched her name as she ran down the corridor to crash into Handong. “Yubin asked me out! Yubin asked me out!”

Honestly, Handong did not know why it had taken half an hour of convincing Yubin she needed to and that she wasn’t going to be rejected for this to happen. Yoohyeon shined her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut with happiness and jumped onto Handong’s body, dragging the both of them to the floor. Yoohyeon had the luxury of having Handong cushioning her fall, Handong had the luxury of… well, she had nothing.

“Yoohyeon get off me.”

It was at times like these that Handong wished that Yoohyeon had never gotten used to the venom that she so purposely laced into her voice.

“Aww, don’t act so cold. I know you care.”

She really didn’t care. In truth, Handong just wanted the two out of sight and out of mind. She didn’t want to feel that weird possessiveness tug at her heart and she didn’t want to feel that ridiculous pang of yearning either. So she thought she’d do them both a favour and wingwoman them together. (Though when Yoohyeon found out, she took her selfishness in a positive light and thought her cousin was finally doing something kind out of the goodness of her heart for once). But that hot envy still flowed through her veins - Handong didn’t show it, but when she clenched her hands together, she imagined that stupid face of her cousin in pain as she strangled her to death.

Yoohyeon grinned sheepishly as Handong dusted herself off, waiting for Handong to say something.

“What.”

“She kissed me.”

“Where.”

She shone like a thousand stars as she pointed to her right cheek.

.

It was a natural cycle, one that Handong had become used to and numb to. Her parents would argue, her father would alienate and treat her like shit despite never being involved in their argument and her mother would run to console her.

Because despite shutting nearly everything out, Handong still felt pain.

It was in Hye-Joo’s arms she let herself go. And it was in her patting and stroking and kisses that she lost herself drowning in repressed tears and feelings instead of drowning herself physically. It was in her embrace and overprotectiveness that she sought release and her mother sought control.

.

“Handong-s-”

“Unnie!”

Yubin was taken aback.

“Call me Unnie! Dongie, Dong-ah, Dong Dong! Anything but ‘Handong-ssi’!”

“Oh, okay.”

Then Handong collapsed onto the floor.

“Handong, are you okay?”

She’d recently found out that the sap from the branches she’d been coughing up were poisonous. She hadn’t coughed much today, or the day before. But the sap she’d ingested days ago must have been working its toxins through her system.

“Yubin, tell my new servant to draw a bath.”

“You mean Miss Kim?”

“Kim, Park, Jung. I don’t care! I never did! Just do something!”

Yubin would have found it to be rude had Handong not been weakly clutching her shirt and shaking and sobbing. She carried her bridal style to her room.

“Help me.”

Handong, for the first time, coughed up leaves, which were attached to a broken off branch. Then she kept coughing, and coughing, feeling a whole cluster of those star shaped flowers rise up her throat and come out of her mouth.

“Yubin. Help me.” She heaved as she felt more petals rush its way up and out of her body.

“Yubin. Help me.” Handong began to rip her clothes off her as her body flared with heat, “Yubin, stop this. Yubin, stop this. Yubin, stop this.”

She stood up and slipped on her discarded shirt, tripping into the running bath and hitting her head onto the wall as she did so.

“Handong?”

Her lungs burned again. She coughed up water, thankfully. Yubin smiled down at her, her lips looked swollen. Had she given her CPR again?

Handong attempted to get up, only to be pushed down with a sure hand. The hand laid on her sternum for too long to be socially acceptable - something Handong knew too well. When Handong realised she was feeling Yubin’s hands on her chest, and not through clothes, she nearly fainted. Instead, she interrogated her employee.

“You took my clothes off.”

“I - I had no choice, I didn’t want you to get sick. Plus I’ve already seen you naked so I thought that you wouldn’t mind, and I didn’t look at you too much so if you’re worried ab-”

Handong grabbed Yubin’s shirt and pulled her into a kiss.

.

Despite her kiss being reciprocated, Handong still felt her body become weaker as the days went by. She didn’t understand. Why was she still dying? Why was she still coughing those stupid lillies up. And why was her cousin still so fucking happy. 

Handong couldn’t bring herself to see Yubin and Yoohyeon so physically close and intimate to one another anymore, so she shut her curtains and never left her room - requesting for her food to be brought upstairs and occasionally chatting with Miss Kim, who could be quite funny when wanting to.

She turned the shower on and sat on the floor, she didn’t know why, but she was crying. There was no one to guilt trip or emotionally blackmail or some suitor to give a sob story, but she was still crying. Silently, Handong wondered if she’d be able to drown herself with just the shower, but fell asleep to the burning feeling of pollen in her chest.

She woke up to the cold biting surface of a half filled bath tub. How long had she been out?

There was a knocking at the door.

“Handong-ssi?”

The voice was meek and not her usual servant. Handong immediately labelled it as annoying.

“Handong-ssi? Is everything okay?”

Handong cleared her throat in an effort to not sound like she had been dying or crying or depressed, but first, she needed to turn the showerhead off. She did so after wrapping a bathrobe around her, and as she did, she spotted Yubin and Yoohyeon asleep, cuddling much past the time that Yubin would go home.

“Call for Yubin. Now.”

.

“Handong? What did you call me for?”

She didn’t speak, instead, she pulled her into her room and, after flinging open the walk-in closet’s door, shoved the poor gardener inside it.

Handong was not going to let anyone have her, she wasn’t going to let Yoohyeon have her. Yubin was hers.

.

Handong didn’t know when Yubin was going to stop banging on the door.

She had much more strength in her than she had assumed she would.

“-dong-ssi. Handong-ssi...”

Yubin slid down against the door. She’d given up. Good. It would have been easier if she just complied with her in the first place.

“I tried…” Her voice came muffled through the thick wood of the door. “I really tried, you know?”

Her breathing hitched. Was she crying?

“I tried to like you, for yourself, for you. I really did. But you’re just so selfish and stubborn and - and… I wanted to fix you so badly, there was just so much wrong with the way you were raised and treated. I wanted the best for you. I wanted the best for everyone - I wanted Yoohyeon to stop suffering from your toxicness, but you’re just hopeless.”

Handong pulled the door open, letting Yubin drop down and hit her shins.

“Get up.”

She didn’t.

“Get up.”

Yubin pointedly stared at the ceiling. She could see it, she was thinking about Yoohyeon, she was thinking about her future with Yoohyeon, she was wondering about how to convince Yoohyeon to cut her ties with herself. Yoohyeon this, Yoohyeon that. 

She said that she liked her outside of their ties, she said she liked her for herself. She took care of her, she helped her and for what? Yoohyeon?

She fucking knew she couldn't trust her! 

“Get up!”

And despite her growing weakness, Handong was still able to overpower Yubin when she dragged her across the floor and flung her against the wall with a foot firmly planted forward and an open palm wound back.

.

She didn’t get it. Handong didn’t get it. If Yubin was so scared of her, if Yubin hated her so much, then why did she just stand there and take it. Why didn’t she utter a word or a complaint or anything really? She wanted her to give up, to concede, but she just sat there, lifelessly as her hits became weaker.

“Handong-ssi. Stop it. You’re not going to get what you want this way.”

The fist balling Yubin's dress shirt clenched further.

“And what exactly do you think I want!”

Yubin looked like she was debating what to say. No, rather that she was conflicted as to whether or not to say what she was going to. How badly mistaken was Yubin to think that anything she’d say would move her.

“You want to feel love.”

*

Handong was eleven when she caught into how her parents acted. Her mom would argue, or her dad, and then they'd fight and bring up every little annoying thing they've done to each other since their last fight - which was always between three months to four weeks - and then split up as if they'd divorce soon.

Handong loved it when her parents formed a wedge between each other. Her mother was always extra caring and extra doting and extra loving in those turbulent times where the reassurance that they'd even still be staying in the house was diminishing with every passive aggressive thing her dad did.

And her father? He'd be less aggressive.

*

Handong was going crazy.

Her dreams with Yubin had started turning into nightmares, and she’d wake up in a cold sweat pacing the floor. And everytime her sleep was disturbed by Yubin, she’d press her ear into the door of her walk-in closet to hear that same light breathing she always did.

Her phone was blowing up with messages from her cousin asking where Yubin was and her staff had begun to be on edge since Yubin had supposedly gone missing.

Her libido raged inside of her and she was becoming so touch starved. She craved the spark of life that she got when she touched Yubin, she needed that jolt of surprise that came with the way she analysed and spoke to her. Holding Yubin and feeling the way her body moved and breathed and stilled electrified Handong in a way she had never felt before. So badly did she want to be on good terms with her that Handong had become crazy - well more crazy than she was before.

But she shouldn't. Lee Yubin was someone she shouldn't trust. Right? Someone who was using her as a stepping stone just like everyone else, right?

The only good thing to come out of this situation was that Handong had stopped coughing up those abominations from her lungs.

“Yubin. Yubin. Yubin, just say you’re sorry.”

Handong thought back to when she never said her name. Maybe she should have kept her name stuck in her mind and not let it flow out of her mouth. 

“Yubin. Yubin talk to me.”

She pressed her ear against the door again. There was no breathing.

“Yubin?”

She flung the door open only to see a pale and withering Yubin.

.

“I don’t want your pity.”

Yubin refused Handong’s help and medicine, food and water. So Handong did what Handong did best. She wrapped Yubin around her finger, she wasn’t wrong at the beginning to think of Yubin to be the romanticising type.

“I’m not pitying you, I don’t - I don’t want to be like this Yubin.” She’d have commended herself for her brilliant acting, but deep down she acknowledged that that was not acting - not in the slightest.

.

It started out as whispers.

“Mom - mom -mom.”

Then it grew into muttering.

“Stop it! Stop it! I can’t - not anymore! Stop it! Stop it! I don't want to!"

Then before she could shout any louder, Handong was violently shaken awake.

“Handong-ssi!”

No. No. This was not what Handong wanted to see. This was not what anyone was supposed to see. This pathetic frail self that she shunned and shut away that still felt pain and fear and let people in only for them to trash her worth.

Yubin could do nothing when Handong pushed her away from her bed and ran to her toilet to cough out more of those crinkled petals she hated so so much. They began to come out more and more and faster and faster. The petals came out in clusters and then in whole flowers. All in front of Yubin.

More of those sweet scented flowers spewed from her mouth. Yubin couldn’t deal with it anymore and took Handong in with her mouth.

And feeling her lips on hers, Handong felt a lightbulb switch on inside her which told her to go.

Feeling Yubin’s stray hand hover unbearably close to her body, she placed hers on top and lowered it into the opening of her bathrobe.

.

Handong was not stupid enough to think that Yubin truly loved her back. No, she wouldn’t trick herself like that. She wouldn’t allow her disease to worsen in such a stupid way like that. Yubin loved Yoohyeon. And Yoohyeon loved Yubin back. That was that. They were your typical best friends to lovers trope and nothing Handong could do would change it - that was what she reasoned with herself anyway. To rub salt into her wound, she had actively played a role in their relationship; after all, she was the one that allowed them to reunite again and rekindle what had been childhood friendship into a deep unconditional love that was both platonic and romantic and she was the one to egg Yubin into officially starting their relationship.

It made Handong sick.

Or maybe that was the poisonous sap from the occasional branch she hacked up from her lungs

Sure, Yubin and Handong had shared a kiss, hell, they had slept together, but their relationship was neither emotionally or spiritually fulfilling. Even Handong with her little experience in dating and the twisted idea of love knew that their relationship was not a desired one. They only took from each other and reaped from one another things they couldn’t from anyone else - at least that was what Handong speculated why it happened. 

Yubin had a sort of hero complex, and who else better to save than a reserved overly restricted sheltered innocent woman who was ‘naive’ to the world and had a less than pleasant childhood to heal her from.

Handong did not have such a complex, or any for that matter. She was simply obsessive over Yubin. Yubin made her feel things she had never been able to feel in a positive light before and it was entertaining and enlightening.

It was a broken mess.

And when Handong had felt a branch claw its way through her windpipe inch by inch, scraping against her insides, Handong’s impatience at herself grew. This one was exceptionally long and big, with clusters of the magenta edged flower at the end of each twig. The process of removing it was arduous and painful. Handong had to snap off the smaller branches first and then work her way to the medium ones, finally having to stick the smallest gardening shears she could find in the abandoned public garden of hers down her throat as she tried her best to calm down her gag reflex. Even more painful than the sharp ends of the broken twigs scratching against her was arguably the vibrations that occurred from each break that reached all the way to the extremities of her body and made her lose her balance multiple times.

Handong wondered why it was taking so excruciatingly long for her to keel over and die already.

Well, if she was this withered already, she may as well start her plans. Handong set Yubin free in the dead of night and bribed her to not talk about anything that had happened; she knew that Yubin would definitely not tell anyone even without the money, but it was more of an assurance of her still needing to work on her now overrun front garden.

And that same night Yubin had finally returned home to worried relatives and searching neighbours and friends, Handong had begun to set her final and ultimate piece into motion.

She was sweating buckets in the time that she had barely reached deep enough, let alone wide enough. She really had become too used to cutting up bodies or using only their organs when burying them, her sore and aching back telling her that she’d regret ever attempting to do this both alone and all in one go. However, she was sure that in an hour or so, she’d finish her task and be able to rest well and easily.

At the age of twenty five, Handong was celebrating her birthday at midnight with a glass of red wine in the ditch she had just dug out for herself. Brown fluffy seeds surrounded her body and so many petals and whole flowers and leaves and twigs accompanied them too. It really did seem like the right way for her to die.

Her head turned to the right, those flowers were indeed still so beautiful, glimmering in the moonlight and shining under the stars. Even if they were her silent killers.

Handong morbidly wondered if she’d stay in flower all year long or if she’d bear fruit. She wondered how tall she’d grow or how wide her roots would be. The Adenium Multiflorum had many names: impala lily, kudu lily, Sabi star, desert rose. She wondered what Yubin would call them. What Yubin would call her.

It was when she was returning to her room after they had all but disappeared that her father burst waltzed up to her, exceedingly too close for comfort, and slapped her. 

He has seen her drag Yubin outside of what she had wrongly assumed a quiet and sleeping household.

"Do you know how much trouble we'll be in? You're just like your mother. A fucking," He raised his arm, "Useless," He laid his hand down quickly and efficiently, "Piece," and again, "Of shit." 

He grabbed her by the collar of her pyjamas. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" She complied. "We'll be lucky if she even comes back let alone not sue us. Just don't fuck things up, yeah, and I'll have this fixed in no time." Then he muttered something about having to use more money on bribing and left her to nurse her cheek and wounded ego alone.

Her time alone didn’t last long.

Hye-Joo came running into her room soon after, locking the door to ensure no one would enter. She ran her hands through Handong’s body and asked if he had hit her.

She put her hand on her lower back and pulled her closer.

“You’ll always have me, okay baby?”

Handong smiled. It was a familiar phrase to her, somehow, it always comforted her, despite how uncomfortably close she was.

“Don’t trust anyone else, I don’t want you hurt like this again. Don’t even trust your father.”

Her mother clutched her face in her hands, staring profoundly into her eyes.

That was right. She was right. She shouldn't trust anyone. Not her cousin, not her father, and definitely not Yubin.

.

“Don’t come into my garden. Ever.”

Yubin was left speechless. She had never gotten to see everything there, and even despite her growing loathing towards Handong, she wanted to see the full beauty of her garden at least once in her lifetime.

“But -”

“Don’t argue with me.”

“Fine.”

Handong was glad to see Yubin retreat. A part of her felt what was right to call relief flood through her system. It felt nice.

No more uncertainty. No more pain.

She turned around and wandered through the stone path to her newest arrival - she moved him ever since that day Yubin had spotted it. Mr Park’s azaleas were flourishing nicely, it was a shame he was alone, the faded pink of his petals were a stark contrast to her own saturated ones. 

Inwardly, she wondered if this was karma. Karma for all the lives she'd taken and karma for all the manipulation and bad deeds she had done.

Damn, Handong needed a distraction. And distraction came in the form of seducing another victim. Her new servant seemed to happily obey her orders and she wondered if Miss Kim would sound as loud as she did when asking Handong for her choice of breakfast as she did in bed.

And it came naturally to her: the talking, the bonding, the comforting, the winking, the flirting, the hand on her lower back, the tight embrace and the kiss on her forehead.

.

Handong did not know why Yubin was so angry when she found out that Kim Bora had contracted Hanahaki disease. Maybe it was the fact that Miss Kim was so dedicated and caring of Handong that rubbed her the wrong way. Or the fact that she had heard them so loudly and so clearly fulfill each other’s sexual needs when she was watering the plants outside that made her grind her teeth as she tried in vain to block out the sounds that she had once coaxed out one fateful night.

Despite what seemed to be a healthy and happy albeit secret relationship that had been going strong for a month or so, Kim Bora had begun to cough up petals. They were hibiscuses. Quite fittingly, they were a strong bold shade of scarlet.

Bora had jokingly told her that they could make tea out of it, so as to not make Handong worry - which she guessed was sweet - but deep down, Handong could sense the worry germinate within her.

And strangely enough, Handong’s own coughing had stopped. Maybe her cure was to rampage through her previously more subtle murders. Murders? No, that was the wrong way to phrase it, it wasn’t her fault that they fell in love with her. And it wasn’t her fault she couldn’t reciprocate their wants. She just cultivated their romantic feelings more and to such an extreme toxic point that they died of their own accord.

As Handong showered Bora with more and more romantic gestures, Bora became more and more ill.

.

“Is that for Kim Bora?” Handong paused as her hand clenched the newly ripped out and cleaned hibiscuses.

Yubin had stepped foot into her garden for the first time in months.

“No.”

This time, Yubin believed her.

.

Handong finally met Yubin again during the funeral service. It was a closed casket one, as was the case for all people who died from Hanahaki. Yubin was comforting a grief stricken Yoohyeon, who did nothing but weep and cry the whole time and she seeked comfort in the arms of her girlfriend. Thankfully, it had not been raining, and no one had bothered to, well, bother Handong; for everyone else it would have been another tragic death from a worker under Handong, for the select few eagle eyed staff, it would have been a quietly grieving lover, for Yubin, it was a hopelessly lost person trying to find what she never could.

For Handong, she was contemplating whether or not picking out the petals of the freshly planted hibiscus would cause another one to grow in its stead - like a hydra - or if it would be best to just pick out a whole flower. Tea sounded great right now.

Yubin confronted Handong.

“Please don’t run in here.”

Handong got up from inspecting the daisies near the entrance of her garden, she had been so young and innocent, a shame she couldn’t have given her a similar aged friend to grow by. “Please don’t stand so close to the flowers either.”

And when anger flashed through Yubin’s eyes, Handong could only watch in abject horror as Yubin pushed past her and ripped out the single bloomed rose from the centre of the square.

“Am I too close still?”

Something inside Handong snapped as she saw a petal drift onto the stone pathway for the first time since the area had been terraformed.

“Fuck you!”

Handong began to wrestle the rose out of her grip, piercing her hands with the thorns on it just as the boy that had confessed to her did. 

“Fuck you Yubin! This is all I have now! This is all I can have now! This is the only thing I’m allowed to do! I can’t go outside! I can’t go to school! I can’t get a job! I can’t get a pet! I can’t fall in love and when I do it’s with you? You're scum, you're pathetic, you're emotional, you're vulnerable, you're caring, you're fucking manipulative.”

She tore off half the flower and was left with a blood stained ripped rose and the bottom half of its stem.

A look of realisation dawned on Yubin’s face as Handong stumbled back and crushed the petal that had fallen.

“You - You love me.”

Handong laughed. She didn’t hold back as her shoulders shook and her head was thrown back. “Ha - Ha. Love you? Love you? I can’t love, Yubin! I don’t love, Yubin. Haha. You’re really funny, you know that?”

"I'm the one causing the flowers? I'm the one killing you?"

Handong could not bear seeing Yubin face warp into a strange self satisfaction and almost disgust. With her teeth, she pulled out the thorns from her palms and pulled Yubin with her bloody hands. She hoped that the blood that Yubin tasted when they kissed was sweet as the flowers that Yubin made her taste everyday. She hoped that the pain she inflicted when biting down on her bottom lip was as painful as the cuts that sting whenever she breathed in too hard. She hoped that the disgust on Yubin’s face was mirrored on her own.

Handong spat out Yubin’s blood on the floor.

“Get. Out. Don't talk to me again, don't look at me again, don't lie to me again."

Yubin yanked onto Handong’s arm and pulled her in, “You can’t tell me what to do Handong, not when you don’t know anything yourself, not when you can’t even look after yourself.”

A stray thumb traced circles onto Handong’s inner wrist. Maintaining eye contact, her hand was lifted gently and brought up, Yubin placed a tender kiss onto where her skin was prickling with blood and her soft lips pressed against the pads of her hand where fingers joined the hand; her tongue grazed along her broken skin and then pushed into the centre of her palm, cleaning the wound.

The roll of Handong’s eyes to the back of her head was reflexive as her moan. The shaking of her knees as her breath hitched when Yubin continued upwards nearly made her collapse and the feeling of her dainty fingers combing through her hair and drawing circles on her scalp pulled her deep into a trance.

“Unnie, let me help you.”

The goosebumps that raised on her skin when Yubin whispered in her ear rushed blood to her cheeks and flushed her whole body.

.

It was a harsh whisper, an almost scolding tone that Yubin chastised Handong with, a disapproving tone lacing her words as if they weren’t doing such an indecent thing right now.

“Keep quiet.”

But Handong really could not relax enough and focus her mind enough onto the stimulation Yubin was doing and even with a firm hand clamped across her mouth, the sounds coming out of her mouth were clear as day to anyone.

They had found out that it paradoxically helped with the Hanahaki; ‘it’ being sex. Somehow, it helped her, despite her weaponizing it previously for years as the finishing blow. She wondered if there was something different between her way of giving and Yubin’s.

Handong pushed Yubin away when they heard someone knocking at the door.

She huffed, “It’s fine now.”

“Hello?” A muffled voice. Feminine.

Yubin looked down onto the middle of her palm and narrowed her eyes. Her slender fingers picked up a singular seed and held it in front of her face.

“It’s clearly not.”

The knocking continued, “It is - and even if it wasn’t, it doesn’t matter because we need to deal with this,” Handong gestured her head towards the door being knocked on more aggressively than last time, “First.”

Yubin rolled her eyes, “Fine. Five minutes!”

“Oh - Yubin?”

Shit. It was Yoohyeon.

“Yes honey?"

Handong flinched.

“It’s only me, could you let me in, I haven’t seen you in aaaaages.” Handong could practically hear the pout on Yoohyeon’s lips - and the exaggeration too, it hadn’t even been less than twelve hours since the couple had seen each other. There was no way that this was going to end well. She needed to escape or hide. But she didn’t know if any was possible right now.

Again, but directly in her ear and in such a low timbre that it made Handong want to stay longer just to hear it again, Yubin whispered, “What are you doing?”

Handong’s mouth went dry. She licked her lips as she tried to find the words to say or plans to execute. Instead, she wordlessly tripped past Yubin and clambered over the slightly opened window, not of course without any complaints or attempts to stop her. She would have succeeded in jumping out of the window had she not been caught.

“Yubin?”

Yubin, with one hand holding onto Handong’s top, turned the tap on and yelled, “Wait, let me wash my hands!” She turned her attention back to the falling woman, and scolded her, “What are you doing?”

“I’m saving your skin you moron!” And Handong did what she would come to regret extremely soon, she pulled herself up for a second and bit onto Yubin’s arm, causing her to let go and causing herself to tumble onto the slanted roof underneath her and then thud onto the grass. It hurt. A lot. At least she was able to see Yubin’s arm stretch across the expanse of empty air and shut the frosted window before she felt sharp shooting pain.

Wait. She could have just hid behind the shower curtains. Correction: she should have hidden behind the curtains. Now what was she going to do? 

The sun came out from hiding and burned Handong’s eyes. Stupid motherfucker. Handong covered her eyes with her hand and sighed into the spreading dull pain that rippled from her tailbone and shoulders. No one had bothered to check up on her, who would? And when the sun retreated far enough west that her exposed skin didn’t feel like it was on fire she opened her eyes and immediately started coughing. 

Petals. They were petals. Of course they were, if they were leaves, she’d have felt their waxy leathery surface slide up her throat instead of the airy gusts of ticklish flapping that she did; if they were branches, she’d hear the telltale crack of it disjointing from their root or trunk or however it worked inside her lungs and the god awful sensation of it clawing its way up and cutting and choking her; if they were full flowers, she’d have smelled its sickening sweet scent and felt her breath shorten as the urge to sneeze filled her.

Yes. She was coughing up normal petals this time thankfully. They were the least painful.

“Dong Dong? What are you doing?”

Why is it always her cousin?

“I’m sunbathing.” An obvious lie, but it was passed off as sarcasm.

“Well, it’s time for dinner and nearly the whole place was searching for you.” Liar. No one cares enough for that.

Handong sighed. “I won’t eat.”

“Oh.” Her excitement deflated and she began to leave, stopping in her tracks as soon as she remembered what she was supposed to say in the first place. “Also, Yubin’s going to stay here for a while after I leave, umm, personal issues? I don’t know. Don’t be too mean to her!” She skipped giddily to the dining room. Of course she'd be happy at her girlfriend staying over.

Crap.

.

Her parents had made up again. She knew because her mother had stopped becoming so possessive and touchy with her, she’d stop being so nice. She knew because she’d hear loud moaning and the creaking of their bed that was so familiar and real to her - that was so vivid and brought back a certain fear inside her again.

Handong didn’t know anymore whether she preferred it when her parents were actively arguing with each other and actively using her as a means of lashing out or when they couldn’t spend one minute apart from each other and neglected her.

She’d choose the lesser of the two evils but they now both weighed equally bad in her mind.

She missed Hye-Joo. She missed her company.

.

“Do you always rarely leave your room or is this a one-time thing because I’m here?”

Handong knew that if looks could kill, she’d have been very petty to kill Yubin for her little question, but she gave one that could anyway over her cup of tea - the petals did grow back after a day or so, but not her rose sadly. 

“The fact that I even came out of my bed is a miracle.”

“Ah. I see.”

They sipped their drinks in silence as they avoided eye contact with each other.

“You fell from pretty high, did it hurt?”

Handong hoped that her face looked as incredulous as she sounded, “‘Did it hurt?’ I mean… I fell from two floors and I can barely sit up let alone walk without any pain, but no, it didn’t hurt one bit.”

Yubin rolled her eyes and smiled, “You didn’t have to do that you know? Jump from the window, I mean.”

“I know. I, uh, I panicked.”

“And you bit me.” Yubin’s smile widened further as she pushed her sleeve up to present to Handong the two red bite marks, where incisors had pierced through skin and caused her to have light spotting of blood, that had yet to fade away since the incident yesterday.

Handong covered the blush of embarrassment on her face with her hands, “I didn’t mean to.”

“Sure you didn’t. And I have long hair.”

Handong started to nod, then she paused and lowered her hands, the blush still clearly visible. She tilted her head in confusion, “But you don’t.”

“That’s the point. We’re both lying.”

“Ooh - wait. What?”

Yubin shook her head for some reason. 

“Whatever, I’m going if there’s nothing useful to hear.”

Just like that, she had left, with no rhyme or reason.

* * *

It was deep, chesty and airy. A stark contrast to her soft, gentle voice. Her wistful sighs and long moans broken up with short hitches of surprise echoed inside Yubin’s head.

She could not get them out.

And it hadn’t started like this. Yubin could distinctly remember a time where she had not been affected by it, by her, by Handong, by their predicament. But remembering did not help her situation. All she could do in her small, plain, undecorated temporary bedroom that had once been Yoohyeon’s, was tear into her conscience as her mind drifted off into not the image of her girlfriend or the comforting feeling of being held in her embrace, but to the songs of pleasure that she coerced from Handong every so often. To the face of desperation that slipped after every coughed out petal.

She had insisted on helping her, how could she not? She saw Handong suffering, in emotional and physical pain, because of her. How could Yubin not feel that pang and eventual shifting into a stabbing of guilt that raked her whole body when she realised what she was doing.

The harsh words of ‘Well, it’s not like we can do much. If the person he likes can’t love him back, who’s to blame?’ immediately hit her. 

Would Handong have done the same to her if she was the one pining? Would Handong have fallen in love, or eventually fallen in love back with her if she was the one to get Hanahaki?

This must have been her first time experiencing it. Poor girl. In fact, since she was so sheltered, it must have been the first time she’d come to understand love - Handong didn’t exactly seem very well versed in… people; although the copious amounts of good comments about her from the ‘elite’ contradicted her statement, but Yubin knew that that version of Handong was fake. A blank canvas that no real person could hate unless they were to dig deeper beyond what Handong showed of her personality.

Yubin had never thought of the cold unflinching Handong she had known to act shy when around people, but that was what she saw when she talked to the maids and servants and other non-familial people.

It was strange. Almost as if the closer someone was to her, the harsher and more apathetic she would be - Yoohyeon being a prime example of this. Maybe it was learned behaviour, something she’d learned from years of abuse?

But that was enough of psychoanalysing her girlfriend’s cousin. 

Yubin didn’t want to say the word. The other word that starts with ‘c’ that described what she was doing.

It was wrong. But it wasn’t. Yubin didn’t know how to put it. She was saving someone’s life, so it was justified - or so she’d excuse herself with, she didn’t even know herself if she considered it as justified either. It was a whole level of fucked up. What would someone else do in her position? 

Handong would let her die. She wouldn’t care.

Yoohyeon would apologise and let her down gently.

Yubin would… well, she knew what she’d do, she was doing it right now.

.

“Yubin! Let’s go to the bookstore!”

And that one sentence was how she ended up perusing through aisles of new books and random snacks in the shopping centre nearest to the town centre. Now, don’t get her wrong, Yubin would have normally loved to have the opportunity to spend more time with both her girlfriend and books, her two favourite things in the world - who wouldn’t love that? - but she had a lot of things in her mind currently that would stop her from enjoying this impromptu date. And it had a lot to do with her girlfriend’s cousin. More specifically, what she had done yesterday.

Yubin had always prided herself in giving things to others. To give other people, well, Yoohyeon, mind blowing orgasms and extra attention and generally be romantic. But yesterday, Handong did what Yubin would never have thought her self-centred self to do.

Handong made her cum. Multiple times.

Yubin had to give it to her, she was more skillful than she thought she could be - especially for what she’d assumed very wrongly was a pillow princess. But right now, being on a date with her girlfriend and seeing her laugh playfully as she picked out a bookmark that doubled as a reading light, but having her mind wander back to Handong teasing and edging her and making her beg and plead or the way she confronted her so boldly with her request without any hesitation made extreme guilt flood her. She shouldn’t be feeling this. Not when she was in such a healthy and loving relationship with someone already. No, it was a terrifying feeling to know that she could do something so horrifying and ethically wrong.

“Is there something wrong Yubin?”

“Oh. No. I’m fine."

Yoohyeon frowned and bent down so her chin rested on Yubin's shoulder, "Are you sure? You know you can always tell me anything."

Yubin took Yoohyeon's hand in hers and intertwined their fingers together, nodding assuredly. She didn't want to lie. Especially not to her girlfriend of all people. They'd been close friends for years, and though she'd never told anyone, Yubin had gotten Hanahaki because of it. And instead of confessing like any normal person would, she didn't want to risk losing their friendship. So she suffered alone. Until one day, she had found herself moving away, far from Yoohyeon; she didn't have a choice in that decision. Her brother had insisted that they were moving for the sake of their family and that it would benefit them in the long run. 

They never really told her why. Though the near death experience of one of her friends was probably an underlying cause.

.

It was on the way back that Yoohyeon asked how long she was staying over.

"Until I can find a job that pays me enough to afford my own apartment. Or studio."

Yoohyeon leaned over and looked Yubin in the eye, "Why do you need an apartment? I thought the whole moving out thing was temporary."

Yubin pulled at one side of her face, "It was. But now it's not. It's complicated. I'm sorry. I just don't think I can tell anyone right now."

"Did your parents find out about us?"

Yubin nodded and unintentionally halted.

"I'm - I'm so sorry."

Yoohyeon pulled Yubin into a hug as she sobbed but didn't let out any tears.

"You know that I'll always have your back right?"

.

"What's wrong."

Yubin thought that if fucking Handong of all people was showing her sympathy, then she really must be pathetic. But here she was, asking what was wrong. And it wasn't as if Handong was oblivious to emotions or facial expressions or body language, it was more that she chose to not give a fuck. But today, it seemed that she did.

In those dark, almost black, irises, Yubin almost lost herself trying to find a way out and almost forgot to speak.

"Nothing."

"If you don't tell me, I'll pull away the money you'll be earning this week."

Yubin sighed into the wooden bench that had been haphazardly placed near the entrance of the mansion - it was meant to be taken away to a junkyard but for some reason, whoever had been in charge of doing it had stopped. But it wasn't as if Yubin minded much, it was her favourite bench.

"That's blackmail, you know?"

"Do I look like I care."

And when Yubin lifted her head up and straightened her back enough to see Handong's emotionless face, it really did not look like she could care less about her situation. So then why did she want to know?

"I got kicked out."

Handong hummed and walked away. Fat lot revealing that information did.

.

When Yubin woke up to a curt knock, she did not expect to walk over to a door with a check slid underneath it and a note.

.

"So what?"

Yubin had found out that Handong fired a few staff members. Why? So she'd have a spot free to hire Yubin. She didn't know whether to be flattered or horrified. She had a lot of power. "I mean, isn't it unethical?"

"It's fine. I made sure they had other jobs they could go to. They always gossiped too much anyway."

Yubin didn't know if that further made her feel helpless or not. "What if I refuse your offer?"

Handong smiled. It was cruel and sadistic, radiating cold and apathy, something that Yubin hadn't seen in a while and wasn’t quite used to enough to dispel the chill that hung over her when she saw it. "You won't."

And, although Yubin hated to admit it, Handong was right. 

Yubin didn't know whether she should be grateful or not, but she definitely had some preferential treatment working under Handong full-time. Working hours were… about nine hours a day - but she’d help after because she lived there. Six days a week. During those hours, she rarely did anything. Sure, she had gone through quite a rigorous training period, but something told Yubin that it could have been much harder and longer than what she actually faced.

In fact, Yubin spent more time doing gardening work than actual serving work. 

By the end of the week, she had become the designated person to bring food up to Handong.

Apparently, she was very irritable in the morning, so Yubin offered to do it to the relief of everyone, and then there came other problems with approaching Handong's personal space; so, once again, to the relief of everyone, when Yubin had come back without being scolded, the staff concluded that she'd just bring food to Handong.

Every morning it went like this:

"Handong-ssi?"

"Come in."

And she'd wait for the door to open - usually there'd be someone else to do it, but you'll find out why she does it alone now - and then she'd set the food up. 

After placing everything down, she'd get pulled into a kiss or maybe a make-out session or maybe a round or two. It varied a lot. Sometimes, nothing would happen and she'd just thank her and bid her goodbye. One thing that always threw Yubin off though was the fact that she could never quite predict what was going to happen. So she had learned to steel herself for anything.

The evening lunches or luncheons or whatever they called them here were a bit more predictable. Then, she'd usually be in the garden. Apparently, they'd often forgo making her lunch and let Handong make it herself - one: because she never told anyone if she was going to have lunch or not; two: because she never told anyone where she'd be at any given time and three: because people were too scared to venture anywhere close to her garden.

So secluded, they'd kiss and hug and tease. But never past that. Handong said that it ruined her appetite. And Yubin would never forget the first time when she tried:

She had shoved her hand away and stepped back in disgust. 

"Never near my flowers." She chided, a cold fury in her gaze, as if it were sacreligious to.

Yubin never understood what was so special about them; other than their supernatural qualities of course. It was as if she had an emotional connection to them - and if she did, maybe Handong had a few more loose screws in her head than just the ones that connected her to her emotions.

Now, for dinner, she was only supposed to call her downstairs, simple, no? And every day, she’d do just that. Always an hour or so earlier than she was supposed to, because the first time she did, it went a bit awry:

"Handong-ssi, it's time for dinner."

And then the door flung open and she was pulled inside; not unlike the time she was basically kidnapped by Handong for a few days. But instead of being locked up in her closet, she was used as a pillar of support.

She was thrown onto the bed and, quite surprisingly, Handong crawled onto her, nuzzling her head onto her shoulder and just cried and cried and cried until she fell asleep.

Yubin that day woke up to the sound of coughing and the smell of sweet flowers.

"Yubin. Let me die."

The back of her nails were smooth, buffed to perfection, and she drew circles with them on her stomach. Her arms wrapped around Yubin's waist and she pulled her closer.

Her voice lowered, mumbling into the base of her neck and sent shivers down her spine, "Please."

Her hands moved up, following her collarbone through the white shirt and then it reached up to her neck and traced lines on it with her thumb rubbing back and forth on her jawline. 

Then she lifted herself up, with small winces and little groans of pain.

"I won't."

Handong stopped moving.

"I won't let you die."

Handong turned around to meet her eyes with Yubin's, a vulnerability shining in it that she’d never experienced before in Handong, "Even if that's what I wanted?"

But Yubin didn't have to debate with herself when she affirmed Handong's question. "It doesn't matter if that's what you want or not. I'm not letting you die." 

Because Handong didn't know any better. She didn't know anything outside of her limited world. She didn't get to experience the wonders of life and how it contrasted so jarringly with the crookedness that lay beneath the surface of wonders. Sure, the world was all types of fucked up, but it could be saved, it could be restored, and it needed more good people, more people with not just good intentions, but good actions too. And Handong could be one of them. She just needed the right push and she'd flourish like her garden.

.

Nothing in the first couple of weeks had prepared her for this situation.

In vain, and she knew that it truly was futile, Yubin shouted, “Stop!”

As cold as ever, she replied, "No."

Yubin bit her lip. She hadn't done anything wrong, had she? Was it what she had said earlier? But she hadn't said anything except for formalities. Damn it, she should have known; for the past few days, Handong had been less than compliant. She'd been skipping meals, ignoring calls and not responding to anyone; not her father, not her cousin and not Yubin herself.

It was puzzling.

So Yubin had gone into her room after the fifth time trying that day - she knew that Handong would leave it unlocked at least once, whether by accident or not, she didn't know.

And on the floor was a flower.

And blood.

A lot of blood.

More blood than there ought to be if she was just coughing up the fair few branches.

Yubin rushed to the bathroom, nearly slipping on the slick sheen of blood that covered the tiled floor.

"Handong. Please stop."

The woman in question raised her head up from what she was previously busied with and looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Step - step any closer and I will kill myself."

She tried to reason with her. "Handong. You can't kill yourself with a razor blade."

She saw hesitation flicker in her eyes as she desperately sought for some type of action she could hold against Yubin.

"I'll - I'll - I'll swallow it. Try me. I dare you."

She raised her hand that contained the blade and hung the metal above her mouth, as if to tease Yubin on her helplessness. Her head was tilted down enough for Yubin to see that they were making eye contact. Handong's jaw opened slowly. Wait. But she wasn't moving. Her tongue reached out and the razor was placed squarely in the centre. Wait, wait. No. This was happening too quickly.

It was pulled back. 

Handong took a deep breath in and her jaw moved side to side. She winced.

And when she did, Yubin tackled her to the ground.

"Spit it out! Spit it out!"

She grabbed onto her jaw and tried to wrench it open. But all she saw was Handong gulp as Yubin tried miserably to open her mouth.

"Handong! Are you crazy!"

She had a cocky smile on her face, as if to prove that Yubin could do nothing. She took a breath in. "Y-" she choked. "Ye-" her face pulled and contorted and twisted in pain. She began gagging. 

Then whatever she wanted to say became garbled nonsense as she began to gargle on her own blood. And she tried to swallow the razor down over and over again, only for her to gag more and start to hyperventilate.

Her mouth began to pour out blood.

.

Yubin didn't know whether to feel disgusted, proud, relieved or worried. Her hands were covered in blood, vomit and bile. 

She had managed to get Handong to puke out the blade after sticking her fingers down her throat. 

"Why. Why won't you let me die."

"Because I care."

"If you cared so much, then why don't you let me do what I want?"

Yubin didn't have an answer to that. She just knew that it was wrong to let her die. And, holding the razor blade that Handong had used to cut herself into the gleaming unnatural white light of the bathroom, Yubin knew that it was the right thing to do.

She'd need to get rid of it.

"Was it recent?"

Handong barely lifted her head from the sink, still dribbling a mixture of blood and bile and saliva.

"The cutting. Or have you been doing it for weeks, months maybe?"

She held one finger up.

"A day?" She shook her head, "A week?" Still wrong. "A month?" Nope. "A year?" She nodded.

A raspy grumble came out, "... Relapse. Hadn't done since."

"You need to go to a hospital."

"No!"

"You can't argue on me with this one."

"No! They'll find out. He'll find out that they’ve found out. Then everyone will know. They’ll know. Know. No, no, no, no!”

Handong took her shirt off and began washing her arms and face and sink and when she crouched down to clean the floor, she slipped, narrowly avoiding bashing her head again had it not been for Yubin’s nimble hands and quick reflexes.

The mess had been cleaned up with little resistance. What did have resistance however was Handong whenever Yubin came even half a metre’s radius of Handong.

“Stop fighting me!”

Instead of replying, Handong swiped the bandages from Yubin’s hands and threw it away, turning her back and rifling through plasters instead and unsheathing them from their plastic cover. She stuck it precariously onto her wrist, covering all of them at once. Ah, she had planned for that to happen.

“It’s more subtle.” She raised her dressed wrist with a delicate smile balancing on her lips, “See!”

There was something so morbidity inviting about her smile. So tainted and beyond hope. So real and authentic compared to all the fake and polite smiles she threw around to strangers and other staff members. Something special, it had something special in it. And she wished she saw it under different circumstances.

Yubin pressed a thumb down on her smile.

Handong should not be so happy about this.

.

It was in her new empty studio that barely matched the area of even Handong’s closet that Yubin thought that maybe she should have taken up Yoohyeon’s offer of living with her. But she wanted to be independent. She didn’t want to lean on someone for her whole life - which, yes, meant that she’d stop working under Handong as soon as she found a good paying job; Yubin was not stupid enough to think that she’d find a job which matched the pay and little work that she had under her. She could dream though.

Yoohyeon however did live close to her. Not as close as she did to Handong though; but that was a) purely coincidental and b) more related to work things than personal things really. Because if Yubin truly wanted to spend more time with Handong, then she would have continued to live inside her mansion. But again, if Yubin wanted to spend more time with her girlfriend - which she should do - she would have moved in with her.

There was just a lot going on in her head. 

But right now, she should not be focusing on her relationship problems, she should be focusing on surviving on her own - or maybe that was an excuse to not think any harder about her position squashed between a hard place and a rock; the hard place being Handong and the rock being Yoohyeon. If it wasn’t any more obvious to you. Or maybe the devil and the ocean was the better, however obscure the saying was.

Yubin moved her labelled boxes (which she didn’t have much of) given to her, but more like chucked, courtesy of her brother from the bathroom’s window of her house. Old house, she reminded herself. He’d been supportive, but confused as to why she didn’t want to stay in that mansion any longer, and he assured her that if she needed anything, any information, he’d be there for her - ‘or I’ll try to at least, as far as I can go without our parents finding out.’

Yoohyeon offered to help her. She was grateful for it of course, but she couldn’t stand to see her so obliviously smiling at her and laughing when Yubin knew that if she knew what was going on, she would not be acting this civil to her.

Handong was… Handong was… She was a dip of sin.

So, with an arm around Yoohyeon’s waist as she guided her jokingly around her studio as if it were a museum, she leaned onto her shoulder and let herself get lost into a daydream; a daydream where none of this happened and ‘Handong’ had never become ‘Handong’ but stayed as ‘my weird cousin’ and Yubin was snuggling with Yoohyeon in a newly bought house that they aimed to share with a dog or two. A time when she didn’t apply for that job or a time where she didn’t keep pestering Handong in hopes of seeing any change arise.

Yubin sighed. When did it come to this? When had it become like this?

.

Yoohyeon had always made fun of her for doing it. Biting things, that is. Yubin didn’t know why, but she just liked biting things. And smelling things, and by smelling things, she really meant hair. She laughed and called her a pervert for always smelling her hair or biting it or pulling it, but they didn’t think much past it.

But oh when Handong told her to bite harder and moaned in ecstasy as her teeth grazed along wet skin, she felt like no deviant. When Handong told her to pull her hair roughly and do whatever with it, Yubin felt as if ‘pervert’ was just a meaningless weight that had been lifted off her shoulders and handicapped her.

‘Do you have a biting kink?’ Followed by her usual classy airy laugh. She had begun to mock her, just as Yoohyeon did, when she started to offhandedly bite Handong’s fingers.

“What, no.” She stopped biting Handong. “It’s not a ‘kink’, it’s just... something that I do.” Yubin had never thought of it as a kink. She just thought it was a bad habit or something.

She raised an eyebrow, “Does it excite you?”

“Maybe? I don’t know.”

There was a hint of satisfaction in her eyes as she leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Then let’s try it. Tonight. Tell the others I won’t be there for dinner.” And when she leaned back, her eyes darkening, if that was possible, with a haze of lust, Yubin knew that there would be a spectacle awaiting her.

So, yes, hearing her excitement heighten as she bit and nibbled, sometimes softly chewed, her skin made something awake and stir deep within Yubin that had never been moved before when she was with Yoohyeon. It made her feel so much more and hearing Handong’s desperate pleas for more - not fingers, not suction, not pecks as it normally would be - but bites and teethy kisses, turned Yubin on in a way that she never thought was possible. So, yes, kink was definitely the right word to describe it.

That night, Yubin did not return to her apartment.

Instead, she spent the night marking Handong up. She spent hours slapping and pulling and scratching and exploring kinks and turn ons and things that she had never dared to even think about let alone share with Yoohyeon. 

It was when Handong started coughing and hacking up leaves and branches and droplets of blood stained her bed that they stopped. 

.

“Of course it’s a good idea!”

Yoohyeon had encouraged Handong to go outside, and helped her sneak out of the mansion with a rope and a small unassuming getaway car. So here they were, Yubin, her girlfriend and her girlfriend’s cousin. Another way to see it was: Handong, her cousin and her mistress. Or alternatively, and more unassumingly, Yoohyeon, her girlfriend and her cousin. 

Anyway, she digressed. When they snuck in from around the back, from near the garden, Yubin was stunned as she saw Handong climb down from the bathroom window. 

Yubin had never seen Handong wear such casual clothes. A pair of black jeans, a cap that covered her face, a flannel on top of a dark t-shirt, if Yubin didn’t know her personally, she wouldn’t have known that she was a spoiled sheltered kid who threw their money at anything they wanted.

The first place they went to was a cafe. It was small, homely and cozy. A perfect icebreaker to the outside world. A perfect way to spend their morning, especially seeing the cloudy sky and dark atmosphere. 

Yoohyeon clung onto Yubin as soon as she stepped out from the driver’s seat. 

"I'm so glad you and Dong Dong are getting along now!"

"Me too."

Yoohyeon patted her stomach, Yubin couldn't help the smile that came onto her face as she held snugly onto her hand and felt her head snuggle into the crook of her neck. Even though Yoohyeon was taller than her, she liked to lean over or bend her knees to keep in that position. Yubin felt safe in Yoohyeon’s arms, she felt comfort in them and how they were always there if she needed and how they never changed. 

Handong had been quiet the whole time, spending most of her time observing how different a few years, not even a decade, could change the landscape of the world - well, the town. 

“After this, let’s get some actual breakfast.”

“Aww, but I want to show Dong everything!”

“Baby, you know that you need to eat at least a full meal a day, right?” Yoohyeon opened her mouth in objection, “And no, a bowl of cereal does not count as a full meal. Nor does the occasional biscuit with coffee or four energy drinks.”

Yoohyeon pouted as she agreed to get breakfast, but not without any dramatics or sulking as she dragged herself to the counter to order what the trio had agreed on to order on the drive there and whilst trying to find a decent parking space.

When she came over with the card carton of their drinks: tea, chocolate milk and latte - for Handong, Yubin and Yoohyeon respectively - Yoohyeon had way too much excitement in her eyes than she should have for just bringing drinks over.

“I’ve got an even better idea than breakfast guys… ‘What’s better than breakfast?’ you say?” Neither Yubin and Handong looked impressed as Yoohyeon carried on her impromptu advertisement, “Lunch! And what’s better than breakfast and lunch?” She waited for a response. When none of them gave one, Handong barely smiling, she continued anyway, “Brunch! Let’s get brunch instead! Get those fancy poached eggs and tea cakes that aren’t really cakes. Or French toast that costs more than my foundation.”

Yubin couldn’t say no to the jubilation in Yoohyeon’s face.

.

They laughed and joked and chatted over their food, well, to be more specific, Yubin and Yoohyeon were the ones joking and laughing and reminiscing about their childhood and one-upping each other at how stupid the other person once was; Handong amusedly absorbed all of their information and smiled continuously - Yubin for once couldn’t tell if it was real or not - giving a quip or funny one-liner here or there. It was when Handong started coughing and ran to the bathroom that Yubin knew that they needed to do an activity that required less interaction and talking and more enjoying spending time with each other.

So she proposed to watch a movie.

Yoohyeon suggested watching ‘The Handmaiden’ and so, with no objections, they went to buy tickets and snacks and waited. 

“Let’s go clothes shopping after.”

Even Yubin was caught off guard by Handong. She reaffirmed her wish in a quiet mumble as they began making their way to the theatre room.

“Let’s go to the shopping centre.” 

It was loud enough for only the other two to hear.

.

Everything had been relatively okay, aside from the fact that they had run out of popcorn not even fifteen minutes into the film. Yubin had taken the initiative and told Yoohyeon to just pick a seat when they had entered and she began to be indecisive about where the best row would be and which place would provide the best auditory and visual experience, insisting that ‘This is an important decision guys, who knows when Dong Dong’s ever going to be able to do this again.’

Yubin was in between the two cousins. It felt like poetic justice; that is, to have Yoohyeon hooking her arm and leaning onto her whilst Handong awkwardly fiddled with her hands and occasionally bumped shoulders with her.

It was the aforementioned hard place and rock.

“Ahaha, isn’t this sort of like you guys?”

Yoohyeon nudged Yubin’s shoulder, and a part of her wondered if Yoohyeon knew, if Yoohyeon had an inkling of the feeling that there was a something - romantic or purely sexually, it didn’t matter, just that there was something more than platonic friendship - going on between them two, which at this point could mean both the characters of the lady and her maid and Handong and Yubin.

But everything had been relatively fine until:

‘Hebi! Hebi!’

Handong jumped in her seat, as the uncle shouted at the maid. She made the empty popcorn bucket fly into the air and Yubin would have laughed had Handong not been clinging onto her jacket for dear life.

As the camera tilted down to show the metal casted snake and then to Sook-Hee who was screaming wildly, Hideko stood up and flipped a lever that divided Sook-Hee and themselves.

‘You need to remember. The snake is the limit.’

And then just like that, the scene cut to Hideko in a bathtub.

Yubin felt something tugging on her sleeve. And only when it showed the close up of Sook-Hee licking her lips as she tried not to look at the mistress in the eye did Yubin take Handong’s hand.

It was mildly comforting - a voice in her head questioned why Yubin was not doing this with her girlfriend, why she wasn’t comforting her slightly shaken girlfriend as much as she was Handong, or why she even cared about such a morbid and uncaring person as her enough in the first to comfort her.

It was only a movie. It was only a movie. She repeated that phrase like a mantra in hopes of not associating anything with it. 'It's just a movie' she’d think. But when they showed Sook-Hee desperately trying to stop Hideko from hanging herself, it made Yubin’s stomach flip. It wasn’t the sex scenes or the plot or the chemisty or the characters that moved her or made her cringe at its realness, but it was how close it hit home.

What was arguably worse was the look of admiration that dawned onto Handong’s face earlier when they showed Hideko’s aunt hanging on the cherry blossom and the look of disappointment when Hideko did not succeed in committing suicide drove it further. 

It was, when rifling through jackets and coats, that Handong started a conversation:

“I think that Hideko should have killed her uncle. That’s what I would do.”

Yoohyeon and Yubin turned their heads to her.

“She should have burned that shitty library and murdered her shitty uncle. A little stab there, a little slice here, maybe a push down the stairs, maybe some poison, you know?”

No. No they didn’t know.

Yoohyeon sighed into Yubin, her arm still hooked onto Yubin’s, “But it’s better that she didn’t. I like the ending! It’s sort of romantic.”

Yubin, smiled, and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “What? The part where they fuck each other with bells?”

She earned a smack, but she was smiling, “No! The way they ran away together. How they faced challenges together and when Sook-Hee confessed about her plans and they both revealed their secrets to each other was just so… Ugh!”

Yubin wondered if all Yoohyeon ever did was speak in dramatic irony.

.

“You heard her.”

Yubin looked up from the bed, her hands still warm from holding onto the hot plate of Handong’s breakfast.

“She loved the way the characters revealed each other’s secrets. Don’t you think you should do that as well? Or at least give it up.”

"Stop trying to convince me."

Handong huffed, clearly agitated by Yubin's surprising stubbornness. Then a devious smile fell on her face, "How about we buy some toys."

Yubin froze. "What."

Yubin was yanked close to Handong's face by her tie and she smugly spoke, "I saw your face you know. During the sex scenes. I wonder if we could do more - and it doesn't have to be those beads."

Handong took a few steps back, bumping into the foot of her bed and dragging Yubin down with her as she flopped onto the bed.

Oh. Was she implying she wanted to do it now? Yubin waited for a sign that signalled for her to do more, but was instead met with nimble fingers unbuttoning her waistcoat and gentle hushing. 

"Your unnie wants to see your face when you come."

.

Yubin noted that Handong had a tendency to wear caps when opting out of elegant dresses and general formal wear. This time, she was sporting round sunglasses and minimal makeup - her lipstick however was as bold and saturated as the crimson of her hat.

Handong added a little flourish as she landed from jumping off the little ledge of the first floor. She turned to Yubin. "What."

"Nothing. You look nice."

Handong looked Yubin up and down, at least that's what Yubin thought she was doing, she couldn't quite see the movement of her eyes through the brown tinted shades Handong was wearing.

"And you look gay."

Yubin scoffed, though she did do a once over of her outfit on her car window when she opened the door for Handong. Was it the rings? The flannel? The tucked in shirt? Inwardly, she cursed herself as to why she even cared about Handong’s opinions on how she dressed anyway - she shouldn’t prioritise it too much, was what she told herself, which was advice told well but advice taken badly as the next time Yubin went out, which was for groceries, she forgoed wearing her trusty flannel and instead wore a plain t-shirt.

The car ride was silent. A strange comfortable but sometimes not silence that became tense whenever Yubin would accidentally touch Handong or vice versa.

They sat in the car for a while after Yubin had parked the car. Then Handong covered her face with her hands and let out a muffled scream. Yubin jumped.

“I’m sorry.” She hugged her legs.

"What's wrong?"

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don't even know why I suggested this - let's - let’s just go back."

"But we've come this far, and we have the cash withdrawn too."

Yubin looked at Handong whose ears had gone completely red and hands had moved to the back of her neck. Was she - was she scared?

"Hey, look. I'll buy whatever you tell me to. You don't have to go in."

Her reply was so meek and low that Yubin had thought that she had hallucinated it at first, "You'd do that?"

"Of course I would."

Going to the sex shop was the best idea that Handong had ever had. Going back to her apartment was the best idea that Yubin had ever had.

"Yubin, please. I need more. Yubin. Please. It's not enough."

It exhilarated Yubin, that feeling of control, of dominance. The knowledge that she could bring the Poison of Wuhan down with a few strokes or presses of a button.

Yubin didn't listen to Handong of course, where would the fun be in that?

Instead, she pushed her hands up from her stomach to her breasts and massaged them, taking one into her mouth. Then, as she let go, she held onto it with a steady hand and slowly eased a clamp onto her nipple. And Handong really should not have been shocked, considering she was the person who suggested to buy it and she was the person who adjusted how tight it was going to be, but the silicone ridges of the clamps pinching down onto her wet erect nipple sent her to a place of pleasure she'd never been to before. That was only with one as well.

-

Handong couldn’t concentrate on anything her father was saying - more like lecturing to her - about. All her brain could do was flash the memory of last week and the cool sensation of Yubin’s lubed up fingers sliding in and out after nearly half an hour of edging and god the way that she -

“Han Dong!”

A slap. She had just been slapped.

“Are you listening?”

She nodded. 

“Then what did I just say?”

“That - that we’re going to have our family over, and that I need to be there.”

-

Yubin had never seen Handong's mother before, not close up anyway. She looked young, expensive and positively social. It seemed as though she shared an inside joke with everyone - the staff, the children, the in-laws; she was sure that if she could, she'd have an inside joke between the potted ferns and cyprus plants. She was ever so the comedian, delighting everyone she’d come in close contact or vicinity to. It made Yubin suspicious. Especially seeing what Handong’s father had and could do to Handong.

Of course, because it was a family gathering, Yoohyeon was there too, in fact, the only reason she was here was because she was Yoohyeon’s girlfriend - Yubin didn’t actually know if they knew, but Yoohyeon told her that PDA was fine. They snuck kisses, pinches, loving words of affection to each other, even kicking each other underneath the tables.

And no social event was complete without any alcohol.

So of course, they drank. Of course Yubin and Yoohyeon drank together; after all, they were drinking buddies - because neither of them could handle alcohol that well. ‘Destiny~’ she laughed, pointing it out when comments about how flushed and tipsy they had already become not even halfway through the night.

Yubin had not drank enough to be wasted or drunk, only enough to feel a buzz settle into her stomach and a quarter of her cares to be thrown into the wind as she socialised with people who were far too far away to understand what they were saying; instead just nodding and smiling and going back to being much too touchy with her girlfriend.

The night was long and full of random interactions with people that Yubin had never met before and was sure she’d never meet again. Yubin almost had so much fun that she forgot about Handong.

Until Yoohyeon loudly announced to everyone about her wandering the mansion.

“Dong Dong! Look! It’s Handong. Let’s go say hi!”

The plasters on her wrists, and arm, and legs, weren't there anymore, but the cuts weren’t visible - at least from the little skin the suit she was wearing exposed; which made her look positively handsome, a word that Yubin never thought that she'd use to describe Handong.

“Ah! Here’s my daughter!”

There were some looks of awe as the guests turned their heads towards their host.

Her father led her by the waist towards the table. Uncomfortable was an understatement to describe her body language as his arm slung around her shoulder as if they were friendly. But maybe she was over analyzing that slight stiffness in her back and the near unnoticeable twitch of her mouth which she managed to transform seamlessly into a smile.

“You know how shy she gets around crowds.” And he laughed boisterously, joined by nearly everyone, as he patted her back; which looked more to Yubin like him encouraging her to walk the plank and jump into shark infested waters - if the tiny gulp of apprehension she did before widening her smile and looking down to feign bashfulness indicated anything of course.

Some random voice which Yubin had been able to pick out as someone that she’d talked to before yelled - it was much too loud considering the short distance between them and Handong. “Come on Dongie, we don’t bite!”

And Yubin did not know if the little alcohol she drank affected her vision, but she swore she saw Handong holding her mother's hand under the table and squeezing it for reassurance in a way that Yubin had never given to her.

.

It ended soon after Handong joined.

Yubin sort of forgot what it was like being in a relationship without any guilt. It was freeing.

The weight came back soon though, she was helping to clear the table and put the dishes away when:

“Where - who - do you… Dong Dong?”

Yoohyeon wrapped both her arms around Yubin’s waist, supporting herself as her legs wobbled a bit. Right. Somehow she had been able to slip away from everyone’s attention and leave the gathering some time between when she entered and up until now.

“Yubin… I think I ate too much.”

She could feel the nausea build up inside of Yoohyeon even without looking at her. But Yoohyeon was right, where was Handong? It felt like the reversal of the last party she attended. Strangely fitting.

Handong seemed to have a thing for being extremely inconsistent. The one thing she was never inconsistent in though was seemingly disappearing off the face of the earth whenever she so damn pleased. It was like her special talent or something. Admirable, but not helpful in cases like these - or really, in any cases whatsoever. 

Yubin took a calculated risk as she walked towards Hye-Joo.

“Excuse me, but would it be okay if we stayed over?”

.

Hye-Joo seemed kind. She had even recognised Yubin from the stories of Yoohyeon’s parents of Yoohyeon’s childhood. Attentive. But apparently not attentive to notice that her own daughter had gone missing. Or she simply wasn’t concerned about Handong. Whatever was the truth, it didn’t matter, at least now anyway.

She laid Yoohyeon down on the bed she had once slept in. She looked so cute in her sleep. How could she ever forsake someone so adorable and deserving of everything in the world? Yubin leaned down and pecked her forehead before tucking her in and shook her head to clear her thoughts. She had a feeling she knew where Handong would be, after all, there were only two places that Handong would retreat to.

.

There were no branches, or leaves, or petals, but the sheen of translucent sap on her face told her everything she needed to know.

“You’re never going to love me, are you?”

Her stomach twisted into a deep abyss of regret. A part of her knew that it was true. She had Yoohyeon. She loved Yoohyeon. She didn’t want to love someone else. She didn’t want to try to love someone else.

“If you know that I’m going to die, then why didn’t you let me do it myself? It’s too late now.”

She had a point, but Yubin didn’t want to admit to it, and what did she mean by it was ‘too late now’? Surely suicide was always a thing she could do, no? Or maybe Yubin really had screwed herself up involving herself with such a mentally unstable person.

“Your cuts, how did you cover them.”

Handong dipped an arm into the fountain, the still water turned a pale fleshy colour. When she removed it, what had to have been makeup - foundation or concealer, she couldn’t tell - wiped off her wrist.

“Did you know that superglue was originally meant for covering wounds?”

And there it was again. That stupid smile of satisfaction that looked as if it belonged on a free summer child or a manic pixie dream girl in a cliché romance movie where the lead man is a dull social outcast, but it was just sitting there idly on a sad afraid woman.

Yubin couldn't stand it. What she couldn’t stand more was that when she looked back to where Handong had been so innocently and warmly smiling, she wasn’t there anymore.

.

It was strange, Yubin couldn’t find Handong in her room after she had up and disappeared during their conversation.

"Yooh."

"Hmm?"

"How do you not hate Handong?"

She laughed. Then she flipped around, a funny expression on her face, one of contemplation and deep thinking, but also strangely of goofiness.

"I don't not not hate her. I mean. I can try to, hate her that is, and it feels like I should, but I just end up feeling bad for her. Funny right?"

Ah, so she wasn't the only person to pity Handong. Good, that meant that she wasn't just falling into a specially made trap.

"She has no other friends. She can't go outside. She barely interacts with anyone, and the people she does always die. I guess that I feel… weirdly protective of her?"

Protective… That did seem like the right word.

"How about you? Do you hate Handong?"

"Hmmmm." Yubin put a hand on her chin. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat as if to give a speech only to deadpan. "No."

It was successful in getting Yoohyeon to laugh. Yes. She missed this lightheartedness.

.

Handong leaned back, away from Yubin, and paused. "What are you doing?"

The light breeze outside made it difficult to see her face fully as it was covered with hair. "Oh."

Yubin swiped her hair back and saw what she was doing. Too late, Yubin realised she was attempting to feed Handong her food, a habit she'd cultivated from doing this Yoohyeon so often. Her chopsticks were left hanging in the air as Yubin tried to unfreeze her brain.

"Umm, sorry." She retracted her hand only for it to be grabbed.

"No." A grin of amusement rested on Handong, "Continue."

It felt wrong. Yubin reached her left hand out to fix Handong's hair. Yoohyeon, she'd do this to Yoohyeon. She'd do this because she was clumsy and airheaded and never seemed to be able to remember how to hold her chopsticks correctly - she grabbed them with her fist and pointed them downwards and no matter how much Yubin would tell her she was straining her wrist, she'd do it anyway. 

With Yoohyeon, she'd hold her head gently after tucking in a loose hair strand and tell her to open wide. She'd stare lovingly into her wide puppy eyes and admire the smile she did with them because her mouth would be too busy chewing the food to smile itself.

But Handong stared at her with begging eyes. With eyes that looked like they were about to roll back with pleasure and with eyes that darkened with every second Yubin would stare back.

Before Yubin could back out herself, Handong did. 

She started coughing.

.

“Keep - Keep going.”

It must have hurt.

“But-”

More coughing.

“Keep going!”

How could she though? There was sap dripping down her nose and blood running down from her mouth. It looked excruciatingly painful and she could feel the uncomfortableness of the branches in her throat even though she’d never experienced it before. She could feel the stinging of coughing dryly and the dizziness that came from inhaling and exhaling so much pollen. How could she keep going when she could feel her pain so thoroughly and authentically?

“Lee Yubin you fucking asshole, are you going to finish the play or not?” Yubin peered down on the floor, inspecting what had come out of Handong’s mouth. A whole cluster of flowers. It was a whole cluster of flowers that grew at the tip of an exceedingly long and spiked branch. She gulped.

“Ma - macarons.”

“What?”

Yubin repeated it more firmly. “Macarons.”

Yubin leaned over to take the leather harness off Handong, who looked as if she had just been shot in the stomach.

“What? Why?” She continued to ignore her piercing gaze and instead focused on undoing the leather handcuffs and chains.

“I just… I can’t - I can’t see you like this.”

“Fine.” When Handong had registered that her limbs were no longer restrained, she stormed off to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and her discarded clothes on the way. “I’ll just do it myself.”

It took a few seconds, maybe a minute or so, for the first petal to disintegrate into thin air. Then a flower dried up and did the same afterwards, its connecting twig drying up in the process. And like a domino effect, all the rest of the surrounding foliage wilted and withered and disappeared.

By the time the last one had gone, the airy breathy moans had peaked in volume and she was sure that Handong would come any second now.

Yubin smelled her fingers. She had always found comfort in smells. This one smelled of Handong. Of course it did. Except, it didn’t fully. She pulled her hand back to see a smudge of orange and red colour correctioner and concealer on her thumb; her thumb which did not touch anything except Handong’s stomach.

“Unnie!”

She banged on the door.

“Unnie!”

All she heard was running water. Fuck. There was no way… was there? But she had to be sure.

Yubin backed up and took in a few deep breaths, ready to force the door open with her shoulder. She slapped her face with both her hands and rolled her shoulders back. Before she hit it, the door opened and she crashed into a towel-wrapped Handong.

“Oof -” They both fell on the floor, “It was unlocked, stupid.”

The shower was still on. Right. Handong had a thing with shutting showers off only when she finished changing. Yubin shook her head. This wasn’t the time for apologises. She reached up and grabbed the towel and pulled - well, tried to. Handong stopped her.

“What are you doing?”

Yubin adjusted herself so she sat on Handong’s hips. There, she pushed her wrists together and held them up with one hand. Her face flooded with shock, then switched to horror as a few gears started turning in her head. Handong squirmed underneath Yubin, her legs thrashing in an attempt to kick her off.

“Yubin... Yubin stop.”

But no matter how much Handong tried, Yubin was able to match and overpower both her strength and willpower. Her eyes were prickling with tears when she gave up.

“It won’t do anything Yubin. Trust me.”

Her advice fell on deaf ears as Yubin unwrapped Handong’s towel and revealed a nasty bluish green bruise on her ribs.

“Who did this?”

Yubin saw apprehension flicker in Handong’s normally cold eyes.

“Who did this to you?”

“Why would you care?”

“Because…”

“Because you ‘love me’?”

Handong shoved Yubin off her.

“Get out of here with your bullshit.”

The sound of water running finally ceased.

.

“Good morning Yubinnie.”

It was Hye-Joo, Handong’s mother.

“Come, sit.”

She smiled curiously. A blinding smile not unlike that of Yoohyeon, but also with a strange fakeness, a tinge of fraudulence, that would tint Handong’s. To trust her or not was a question that arose within the back of Yubin’s head, something that seemed to have such an obvious answer: of course she could and should, why not? But her short answer left a sour foul taste in her mouth as if something had died there.

She’d be cautious for the sake of her conscience.

“How’s it like working here? I hope you weren’t rushing during training, I know that there are a lot of weird rules to follow and things to memorise here.”

“Oh, no.” Yubin shook her head, “It’s fine here, actually, I don’t do a lot. It feels like I’m here more for show and fetching Handong-ssi than anything really.”

She smiled. Or would it be more appropriate to call it a smirk?

“Good. Good. I suppose you won’t be staying here soon then?”

“Hmm?”

“Was I wrong for thinking that you’ll quit soon?”

She spoke of her alarmingly correct assumption casually but with a darkening implication, seemingly stirring the two adverbs together and not caring how strange the combination was.

“I-”

“It’s okay if you are dear. Just know that we won’t hold a grudge on you if you do. People die a lot within these walls, I won’t suppose you don’t already know about the past few servants dying? Truly tragic, no?”

Yubin wondered what the woman was trying to get at. She tried to comment on it curtly and empathetically, in a way that didn’t reveal too much about how they both died of Hanahaki and how they both died painful deaths; she didn’t actually know what it was like of course, dying from Hanahaki disease that is, but she imagined it to be painful. She imagined feeling ductile roots wrapping around your lungs and flowers and petals and leaves springing endlessly up your throat until you take your last pollen filled breath and lose consciousness forever.

“Also, just so you know, you are never to knock or enter my room. Another rule to add to your already extensive list of things to remember, I know, I know. But it’s all I ask of you, okay?”

Yubin hadn’t the heart to deny for her one request.

.

Yubin noticed that Handong had been distancing herself from her lately. Almost a week had gone by since they’d last had a full half-a-conversation together before Handong left for no reason, let alone be able to do anything intimate together either. In fact, Yubin had begun to get closer to her mother than Handong herself, languidly sharing tea together sometimes and catching some gossip from the cooks.

‘You know, I heard the maids say that Handong’s adopted?’

‘Don’t worry too much about that, she’s my daughter by blood, and even if she isn’t, I’d still treat her as if she were my own.’

Yubin smiled at that. Hye-Joo was strange, she was both intimidating and inviting, smiley and serious and Yubin never quite knew if she was joking half the time or not.

She sighed. She was her only true company, besides the occasional visit from her girlfriend of course, in the mansion. Sure, Yubin was friendly with everyone and chatted with them on occasion, but Yubin wasn’t interested in small talk or gossiping as they seem to be and busied herself waiting for a good conversation. Apparently they only came with Handong and her mother.

Where was Handong anyway? 

Damn. Handong really did have the impeccable talent of hiding away from anyone whenever she wanted to. It was not an ability that Yubin was very keen on, it made her life more difficult than it needed to be, and even after scouring the entire ground floor of the mansion, her garden included, and Handong’s room, only to find it empty, Yubin concluded her search. There was no point. If Handong wanted to hide from her, then so be it.

The only sign of Handong still being in the mansion was the quiet echoing of coughs she’d heard before she left to go home to the apartment.

.

“Why did you need to stay over during the family gathering?”

Huh. What an odd time to ask that question.

“Well, Handong went missing and I was worried. Plus, Yoohyeon didn’t seem like she’d fare well if she went back home.”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Did Yoohyeon’s parents not come?” Did she not notice?

Yubin shook her head, explaining that they were out of town to attend an important meeting - or something along the lines of that, she just knew that it had been work related is all. “Plus, I drank too much alcohol to drive that night.”

The woman cracked what seemed to be half a laugh before speaking, “You’re so responsible, I know that most of the family ended up driving home half drunk. It’s refreshing to see such maturity at such a young age. You’re even looking after other people and cleaning up their mess that they made. I can see why you’re in a relationship. You seem very dependable.”

“Ah, you flatter me too much.” A blush crept on her face.

“No, no. I’m serious, you may be younger than my Dongie but she’s not half as competent as you are, you know? All she ever does is frolick about in her garden, worry about her looks and complain about everything I do.”

Yubin wasn’t in the mood to turn one of her only companions at her work place into a sort of enemy so she kept silent about Handong, she didn’t deserve to get looked down on like that, it’s not like she had much of a choice in anything. “At least her garden’s pretty.”

“It keeps her hands busy and mouth shut. I’m glad I gave it to her.”

Yubin thought her to be a bit too harsh.

.

Yubin knocked on the door, sure that it was not going to garner any reply as the morning before and the morning before that and the morning before that too. But surely as the sky is blue and the sun rises from the east to west, the door opened. 

"What."

She had been crying, that had been evident enough, with the pink tint of her sclera and bloodshot eyes, the puffy eyelids, the hastily wiped red nose and the obvious trail of tears streaking down her face. But she was still as stern as ever.

“Oh, umm. Breakfast?”

“Thanks.”

Handong took the plate and the glass of water before shutting the door with her foot.

.

“Handong’s ignoring me.”

Yubin pouted as she semi jumped onto her bed - had she had a sofa, she would have jumped on there, but she didn’t have one as of yet because she was saving money for more important things, such as better pots and pans. Yoohyeon followed suit and laid across Yubin’s lap, eyes still glued to the night sky on her Switch as she waited for a shooting star to fly past and make a wish on.

“First time?”

“Yeah. I guess. Is this normal Handong behaviour?”

She waited patiently for a response, knowing that if she disturbed Yoohyeon, she might miss a star and sulk about it for the rest of the day, mumbling ‘time travelling is a pain in the ass’ as her brows furrowed when she heard the familiar and prized ‘swoosh’ of a meteor shower.

“Oh! I got ten in a row! Hah, I’m gonna make that magic wand tomorrow.” Then she went silent, seemingly mulling something over in her head. “I guess. I don’t know, I can’t remember a time when Handong was ever consistent. It’s nothing to worry about though, it’s probably just her parents, or her mom, don’t take it personally.”

Her mom? “Do they fight often?”

Yoohyeon screwed her face up, looking up into the corner of her eyes as if it showed the correct words to say to Yubin, “Umm. They love each other, a lot, but when they argue… Their fights are messy.”

Swoosh. 

“Shit, my star!” She button mashed as she tried to recover from her distraction and barely got to make the wish, followed by a large exaggerated, purely comical sigh of relief.

Odd. It explained the tears though. Whatever they fought over must have been pretty harsh to make Handong cry though.

*

Not soon after Handong's tenth birthday, herself and her mother were kicked out of her house for not complying with her father's wishes.

Her mother didn't complain about it. In fact, she kept her head up high and did everything in her power to keep Handong from danger. Ensuring she never ate less than what would be fitting of a growing child or giving her the best spot to sleep in the cramped spare room of her cousin's house.

"It's because I love you okay? I care about you."

When her father let them back in for no reason that made sense to Handong, that side of her mother started to erode ever so slightly.

*

There was whimpering. Yubin knew from experience that it was Handong.

“Shut up! God you even sound like him.”

It couldn’t be, could it? Yubin pressed her ears against the door in hopes of hearing more but stopped herself. She shouldn’t be doing this, it’s not right. If there was anything happening, she’d just be able to question Handong or her mother. She shouldn’t invade their privacy like that.

Before Yubin removed her ear though, she could hear the distinct unknoting and sliding and freeing of a tie.

“St- stop!” 

Yubin decided to intervene. She knocked on the door, hand on the handle ready to open it if need be.

“Those good for nothing - I thought I said that I didn’t need any-” She swung the door open, not wanting her to escalate anything.

“Ah - I’m sorry miss, I didn’t realise that this was your room.”

There were blazers and ties and bras and dress shirts on the floor.

Handong’s mother’s face softened almost immediately when the door opened. It looked so genuine and so caring that Yubin almost believed it, until she caught eyes with Handong. To say she looked scared was to put it far too lightly. Not to mention how she was hidden behind the closet door and barely peeking out, as if she were going to be punished if she were to reveal herself; Yubin was sure that if she hadn’t seen her face for so long and branded those eyes into her head that she would have never spotted them blending in with the darkness.

“It’s okay, you’re new here, as long as you learn from your mistake. Well, good afternoon Yubinnie, it was nice seeing you.”

.

It was morning again, and Yubin dreaded what state she’d see Handong in this time. She knocked succinctly.

“Handong-ssi? Handong-ssi?”

No reply, unless you counted the excessive coughing Handong did one.

“The door - the door isn’t-” More coughing. Yubin winced, but tried at the handle anyway. It wasn’t locked. Maybe it never had been locked in the first place.

The handle cranked open, the unwinding and unreleasing of the mechanisms behind it as loud as ever, and when Yubin turned to shut the door, it thundered as the wind slammed it closed.

Then her face was assaulted with petals and leaves and fluffy seeds.

It was nearly impossible to see the floor.

“Unnie… Unnie this isn’t… You’re going to die soon.”

“You think that I don’t know that?” She snapped, doubling over as soon as she did and wheezing and coughing out more petals.

Yubin didn’t heed the aggression she spoke with. She closed the distance between herself and Handong, taking her hand in hers. She didn’t know what to say or do or even think or feel. It just hurt, seeing her like this. Seeing her so weak and frail.

Handong reached out and wiped away what must have been a tear forming in Yubin’s eye.

“Ha, don’t get so emotional on me now.”

She smiled, so happily and carefree that Yubin wanted her to stop. She wanted her to stop taking so much pleasure in this. So she leaned in and kissed her; she kissed her smile, her petals, her Hanahaki away and deepened the kiss before she felt three consecutive taps on her shoulder. Again she felt three taps. That was her non verbal cue. Three taps followed by a short break and then three more. They broke apart.

“Not now.”

“Why?”

“It’s not safe.”

And Yubin should not have felt disappointment of all things crawling about and rattling in her chest but she did.

.

It went like that for a while, never going further than that. Not even cuddling or hugging or biting or groping. Handong would always quietly stop her before it continued further. Yubin didn’t mind though, the consolation she got of Handong not progressing further than a few flowers being enough to satiate her mind, though not quite her hunger.

“Not to complain, but why are you so touchy these days?”

Yubin sighed into Yoohyeon’s back, “I’m just frustrated. And tired.”

“Work that hard, huh?”

Yubin nodded her head. She felt Yoohyeon’s arms wrap around her waist and pull her into a sort of hug. She shifted herself so she faced Yubin, “Want me to stay over? We can cuddle all night, finish that Netflix series we started last month, eat snacks for dinner. Sound good?”

Yubin hummed happily in reply, tender love and care sounded so much better than sex, “Anything with you sounds good.”

“Dork.” Yoohyeon shrugged Yubin off to set everything up, giggling at what Yubin had basically drawled out, slipping away from their embrace before Yubin had the opportunity to hit her.

“Nerd!” Yubin shouted in retaliation, though she was smiling to herself and wondering how she ever ended up with someone as wonderful and attentive as Yoohyeon as her girlfriend. It only made Yubin feel worse about what she was doing with Handong behind Yoohyeon’s back, Yoohyeon didn’t deserve this, it was unfair, unjustified, uncalled for. Yoohyeon had been everything Yubin wanted and needed and so much more.

.

Yubin found herself walking arm in arm with Handong around her garden. Not her garden, as in the secret one at the back of the mansion, but the one Yubin worked on twice a week, maybe a bit more when she got bored. Strangely, Handong had admitted to having never visited it before, only ever seeing it from far away in her room or glancing at it a few times when escaping from the mansion. 

It was mostly quiet, that was what set Yubin on edge. It was as if Handong was slowly going through a bucket list or something, and just imagining her in pain wrecked Yubin, let alone thinking of her dying or dead. God, she did not want to see that day.

“Here!”

Handong started to quicken her pace without much of a warning and brought the two of them over to a corner hidden by tall shrubs and hedges. She huffed in excitement as they reached there and let go of Yubin’s arm, twirling around in that tiny space and letting her frock flare dramatically as she spun before she plopped herself onto the grass with a little ‘hup’ sound.

She patted the space next to her excitedly.

When Yubin joined her, sitting down and lowering her back calmly in a stark comparison to the childish way Handong laid down, she started to speak.

“They can’t see us here. Not even I could spot this place with my binoculars you know.”

“You have binoculars?”

Handong laughed shortly. “You don’t?”

Yubin turned towards Handong in hopes of getting any extra information through her body language or her face, but only saw awe in her eyes as she stared at the cloudy sky. She looked uncharacteristically free and happy, a dark part of Yubin wondered if she was doing this to escape the dread she felt when with her parents or her childish behaviour just then was because she never got to act childish without any consequences before, considering how much her mother disliked it when she acted immature - but she digressed.

“No, I don’t. What do you even have binoculars for?”

“They’re not mine actually.” She looked down, well, away from the sky that is, and straight towards Yubin before looking back up, “They’re Hye-Joo’s.”

She took note of the saddened tone she said it with but continued with their conversation anyway, “Then why does your mom have binoculars?”

A pause and a soft hum. “So she knows where I am at all times.”

“Oh.”

As always, their exchanges ebbed and flowed from random chatter into tranquil silence, they never anchored stably. There would always be a quiet, like the calm before a storm. How long had it been since they were just able to talk like this anyway? Had they ever? She didn’t think so now that she thought about it.

The silence was comforting. There was no pressure to speak, or say something ensuring so as to not make the other person feel uncomfortable or the feeling that arose inside that that always made her feel as if she needed to say something nice or funny.

She felt Handong's hand rest on top of hers. "When I die, I'm going to leave you all my money. And you better run. Don't come back here, don't associate yourself with my family, don't join any family gatherings. Don't even smile at them."

"Even Yoohyeon?"

"Hah. Especially Yoohyeon. They're all fakes."

Yubin would like to call herself a patient person, one slow to anger, and if she was angered, it would be for a good reason, but now, she felt herself get riled up at the tiniest thing that Handong said and it must have been Handong’s superpower or something because she always found an impeccably efficient way of making Yubin infuriated. She snatched her hand back from under Handong’s and sat up, hoping to not sound too uptight when she spoke. "What do you mean."

"They're all selfish." Handong continued to lie down and closed her eyes, ignorant to the festering disdain inside of Yubin.

Yubin couldn’t help her eyeroll, not that Handong saw of course, and scoffed, "And you're not?"

"At least I'm honest about it." Yubin looked down to scrutinize her face.

"You're just jealous."

It was Handong who scoffed this time, "Of what?"

She didn't know if it was the serious tone she spoke with or the condescending glare her eyes shot at her, but Yubin gulped in intimidation. "Of Yoohyeon."

She cracked into a wide grin, "Why would I be jealous of someone who's dating a cheater?"

Oh. To say that the word 'cheater' did not strike something profoundly deep and twisted inside of Yubin would be to lie.

"Don't flatter yourself too much Yubin." If it was possible, Handong smiled wider as she sat up and leaned onto her hand, putting her elbow on Yubin's shoulder for support. Damn, she was oozing with confidence; and Yubin would have pushed her off if it weren't for how enticing her aura felt or how her dark eyes seemingly drew her closer to her. 

She pulled down Yubin's bottom lip with her other hand, leaning closer and forgoing leaning onto her hand, their noses almost touching each other. "You're just as bad as I am."

Something seared her body, it roared under her skin and broke out into bright flares. Lust. It was lust. And under the hot fanning breath of Handong and her stupid enchanting unblinking gaze, it flared and grew and burned, and only when she felt the well acquainted hand of Handong's rest on her stomach was she able to put a name to it. It's all too familiar feeling tingled in her stomach, settled inside of her and she'd be damned to hell and back if she were ever to understand why this was happening to her of all people. 

God and even though she wanted to dispute how she was better, how Yoohyeon was better and how her girlfriend didn't deserve to be talked so badly behind her back like that, she tripped and fell into the hellfire crackling in her loins.

.

“Yubin. Did Handong do something to you?”

Yoohyeon always was more emotionally and socially perceptive and adept than your average person. Usually, it would be something to rejoice or to welcome with warm arms - Yubin never really being one to unload her thoughts and heavy feelings of burden on anyone unless she knew that they understood she was facing any sort of turbulence (Yubin hid it well and she knew that she hid it well) or she knew that she could trust them fully.

“No.”

Yoohyeon shot her a questioning look and Yubin knew then that she did not do enough to convince her otherwise. And she would have added a question onto her statement to make it sound normal or to swerve the conversation onto a different path, one that didn’t contain Handong, or anything to do with Handong, but she was too late. Or Yoohyeon was too quick.

“Are you sure? I know that face from anywhere, Yubin. And knowing Handong and her… umm… less than savoury tendencies to like to torture people slowly and drive them crazy, it was taking almost too long for you to crack.”

Ah. This was coming from Handong’s number one victim and sufferee extraordinaire. There was no fighting this one. Well, when it came to Yoohyeon, there was almost no fighting in the first place; one of the reasons on a very long list of reasons as to why Yubin absolutely admired and loved her girlfriend.

It was when Yoohyeon started to pout and give her puppy eyes that Yubin caved in, “Okay, okay! It is about Handong!”

Yoohyeon poked deeply into Yubin’s cheeks and then pulled them softly, “Aha. So I was right!” She started tutting as she unhanded Yubin’s face and walked around to her back, “Yubin, Yubin, my dear soulmate, you know that you can’t hide anything from me.”

She felt arms wrap around her waist and Yoohyeon shift things behind them as she guided both of them to sit down onto a small couch that Yoohyeon’s parents had been kind enough to donate to her (they said that it was old and apologised for not being able to give her anything better, but Yubin was just glad to be able to not spend all her time sitting either on the floor on her bed - it made her too unproductive).

“What did she do this time?” Yoohyeon patted her head gently.

Yubin didn’t know how to abridge everything, nor how to keep out the crucial fact that she was sleeping with her cousin that used to bully her of all people. So she talked about what was going on now, or rather what had kept her from sleeping well a few days ago: she talked about how Handong was ignoring her and shutting her out and disappearing and not caring for her feelings and how Handong’s mother was so pleasant and sometime downright adorable but the way she spoke and treated Handong made her sick.

It was in these times, lying down on Yoohyeon’s lap as she gently stroked her head and kissed away her worries as she ran to the kitchen to make a hot cocoa that Yubin felt understood and happy and content and deemed that Handong was a plague to be shoved to the back of her head.

She couldn’t cage her in for long though - not when Yubin spurred its ugly growth.

.

Handong was right. No one could see anyone past that tight corner of the hedges. Out of pure curiosity, see purchased a pair of binoculars and tried to find a vantage point in the house that could actually see that area: both out of the need to assure herself that no one had saw her, and also out of disbelief that you couldn’t see any part of it no matter the angle. And she was right of course. Every room that faced the front garden was not able to show even a sliver of the green grass and flowerless area she had been acquainted with via Handong.

Every room, that is, except Handong’s mother’s room.

But she didn’t dare to enter again, not unless she had the knowledge that she was gone.

Then one day, she slipped into the room during dinner time, careful to wear gloves and not move anything in the room - not even the curtains.

She made a discovery that day. Either Handong had purposely lied to her about not being able to see it from her mother’s room, or Handong had not had the chance to check from it, or Handong wasn’t allowed to. All of the reasons seemed plausible to Yubin. She hummed as she retreated from the windowsill, not before noticing a hoodie that she distinctly remembered was Handong’s on the floor turned inside out and crumpled.

What had she gotten herself into.

.

They hadn’t even exchanged any sort of greeting before Handong desperately began to push herself onto Yubin, which definitely took her by surprise, if the tiny gasp of shock she did before she felt Handong’s lips crash onto hers the moment she shut the door and turned around gave anything away. Yubin didn’t complain much though, glad to be able to take her frustrations of the past week or so out into something; because there was no way Yubin would ever be rough with Yoohyeon, even if they both agreed with it.

Her hands held onto Handong’s face and then ran down her body, causing her to whimper and pull back a bit.

“St- stop.”

Yubin had only tugged down at the waistline of Handong’s trousers.

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to. I can’t help it - I can’t help it.”

Handong clawed at her back, causing Yubin to push Handong back.

Her tunnel vision gone, Yubin took in Handong’s state. She was panicked, scared, mumbling things that weren’t entirely in Korean.

“Dad - dad - she’s - he’s. Stop it! Stop it! I don’t want to. I don’t want to.”

"Unnie."

"Stop - stop - stop - stop."

"Unnie." She started shaking her to no avail.

"I didn't mean to - I didn't mean to - it's not my fault - it's not my fault. My fault, my fault, my fault."

"Unnie!" She shook harder.

"Fault. Fault. Fault. Fault."

"UNNIE!"

It took a slap to snap her out of her panic attack. Yubin immediately regretted it though, shushing Handong and caressing the cheek which she had just hit. Handong buried her head into Yubin's shoulder and hugged her tight, crushing Yubin's body and making it extremely hard for her to breathe. Instead of complaining or asking her to stop hurting her, all Yubin did was breathe lighter and stroke Handong's back.

"It doesn't count, right? It doesn't."

Yubin had no idea what she was talking about.

"It doesn't. It just doesn't."

Handong clung onto her tightly until it got late and she had to join her parents with dinner.

As Handong left the room, Yubin spotted the rope that Handong had previously used to climb down her room and escape coiled underneath her bed with a tight knot a third of the way through it. She decided that it would be best if she took it, wrapping it proficiently and then waiting until it seemed right to exit and leave for her car.

.

"Forget what you saw yesterday."

So cold. Handong could be so cold sometimes. In fact, Yubin was wrong. Yubin remembered that Handong was always cold, and only recently had she begun to thaw - let alone warm up. But she was so used to not hearing her venom that it stung so much more than it should have.

"But-"

"Get out."

"Dong-unnie. This doesn't have anything to do with your bruises, does it?"

She bit her lip at the sudden confidence that shot up her spine. This was her opportunity, if she ever wanted to to succeed in finally fully and completely understanding and comprehending Handong, this was her nearest way. And Handong needed this as much as Yubin wanted this.

"Or your nightmares."

"..."

"Or the fact that your dad isn't your dad."

The top of Handong’s mouth twitched down, which Yubin wouldn’t have spotted had she not seen it been done before. It pulled immediately into a strained smile as she fought with herself to keep from frowning - which ultimately failed as she slipped between real and fake smile and her eyes glazed over with pain and what must have been difficult memories.

What Handong did next took Yubin by surprise.

"Yubin." She cracked a smile, a genuine one, that happy smile that only appeared when Handong was satisfied with something morbid she did. "You know I love you, right?"

She leaned forward and wrapped her hands around Yubin's neck. For a second, Yubin thought that Handong was going to kiss her; what she got instead was her lurching onto her, pinning her to the ground and choking her. And then two minutes of air agonisingly being drawn away from her as Handong's trembling hands refused to actually cut off enough air supply to kill Yubin off.

"Dong- Dong-"

Tears were forming in her eyes. 

And it stung. A lot. 

There was this strange building up of pressure as Handong's hands pressed onto her more and more. What was stranger was that no noise escaped her no matter how hard she tried to scream for help, or for her to stop.

It felt like her head was crawling with pain and about to explode in any second.

When Yubin slipped into unconsciousness and snapped back, she saw Handong's deep black eyes.

In those eyes there was so much pain and another emotion that Yubin couldn't quite find the right word for or describe well enough or sum up in a metaphor in the few seconds she started to see black spots cloud her vision. And Yubin didn't know what was worse: the knowledge that Handong wanted to kill her or the fact that Handong only let go of Yubin when she started to cough out the petals that solidified her unrequited love.

Her last coherent thought before passing out was ‘I need a change of place’.

*

She was eight when it happened.

"Mommy?"

"Yes sweetie?"

"Who's that new man?"

"Well, he's your dad."

“Oh.”

"There'll be no more bruises, I promise." Lies. Lies. All people ever did was lie.

*

Yubin paced around the garden.

It was the right time right? The right day? She checked her phone only to confirm that it was the same set of numbers she had texted Handong a few days ago that was shown from her screen. She quickly shut her phone off, in case anyone spotted the bright light that flashed into the night sky behind the hedges.

No, it was right. Everything was right, she was sure. Now was not the time to let her anxieties get the best of her.

She heard a rustle.

“Handong?”

“No, it’s me, Santa Claus.”

Irked at her sarcasm, Yubin pretended to not hear her mocking tone, “Really?”

It earned her a quick smack to the head. 

“Yes. C’mon, let’s go.”

Yubin stopped to admire Handong in the moonlight, her elegant features drawn out so perfectly in the dark the way that the unnatural gleam from the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling could never dream of complimenting so well as the simple glimmering of stars and off distant heavenly bodies.

“What?”

She chastised herself and actively told herself to focus.

“Nothing.” And she led the way to her car, hooking onto Handong’s arm on the way there and ignoring the nagging voice in her head that whispered that this was all too domestic, what did it matter if it was? She did this, the whole physically close thing, with nearly everyone she considered herself close with. But that meant that she considered Handong a close friend, which… which really didn’t matter right now.

Yubin settled herself into the driver’s seat. How it had come to this, she didn’t know. No. Yubin was wrong, she knew, she archived, every little thing that led up to this moment, this act of defiance. Most of all, she remembered the burning words had been catapulted by Yoohyeon.

“Yubin!”

She felt her hand being shaken. She looked down to see it being held underneath Handong’s. Yubin looked up to concern filled eyes.

“Yubin! Are we going or not?”

Yubin smiled, hoping it would cover up the sadness that had to be in her face, and slipped her hand out from under Handong’s and placed it onto the steering wheel.

“Yeah.”

As she began reversing, Yubin wondered if this time, Yoohyeon actually knew. That she knew everything and she was just waiting until Yubin revealed everything or to see if she would even reveal anything in the first place. If she was, she could only imagine the heartache she was going through, the disappointment, the betrayal, the feelings of inadequacy. It all pointed towards certain doom, but it was too late now.

.

It had not even been a week until they fought.

“Yubin, I want to go outside.”

“You know that you can’t, right?”

Handong grabbed the keys off the table anyway and began untying the laces to the only pair of shoes she brought over. “I don’t care. What was the point in escaping if I can’t even get any freedom.”

God she was so annoying.

“You know why I can’t let you out Handong-ssi. It’s dangerous. They could find you, we live so close to your family, and your parents’ eyes are everywhere, don’t you remember the last time we went out?”

She knew. Of course she knew. They both knew vividly how intensely frightening it had been.

They were walking down the street, arms hooked together because not only did Handong have a bad habit of wandering anywhere because of curiosity and getting lost (yah, Yubinnie! Look at those shoes!) but because it quelled Yubin’s anxiety down. It was around the outskirts of the shopping centre when they heard a loud ‘there she is’ and footsteps. Loud footsteps. Footsteps that echoed even with the hustle and bustle of the people around them and the constant cadence of life in the square.

Yubin was glad they were arm in arm because otherwise, Handong would have been quickly torn away from her side with a short scream that would have been too quiet for people to notice.

They had to run. Ducking under stray arms and swerving around tight corners and hopping over bags and occasionally bumping into someone but not having the time to apologise because it would have been lost in the wind and said far too far away from them to hear.

It wasn’t until they reached near the car park that they had lost whoever was following them.

It was after a few deep breaths that Yubin could collect herself to speak, “Do - do you know them?”

Handong replied after a few seconds, still huffing and puffing from their impromptu run, “No.”

Then, when they quickly drove off away from the shopping centre, Handong spoke again, “This has happened before.”

“Hmm?”

“I ran away a lot when I was eight. Somehow, my mother always managed to find me.”

The last time they went out had also been the first time they had been out. It was a shame to cut it so quickly, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. But clearly, Handong did not share the same philosophy as Yubin because she had begun to slip her shoes on.

“Handong, please don’t go outside. It’s for your own safety.”

“And then what Yubin?” She stood up, “I just stay stuck here until you feel like it’s appropriate for me to leave? I have to go around everywhere with you because it’s for my safety? What if it’s never safe Yubin? Did you think about that? Then what? Then what will I do? I’ll stay here not even to sneak out for three hours like I could when I was back in my house?”

Yubin gritted her teeth, grabbing Handong’s wrist to stop her from unlocking the door. She froze. “You don’t know anything Handong! You don’t see anything! It’s for your own good!”

Handong jerked her hand away. “Fine.”

.

Yoohyeon dazedly smiled at Yubin.

“Morning!”

“Morning.”

She skipped out of bed, quick to make breakfast and head out after their long night yesterday.

Yoohyeon looked simply out of this world, even with her messy bed head and tangled hair and sleepy eyes and gruff voice. And despite everything, she was still energetic and positive and so smiley and clingy and how Yubin could just gush about her for hours. 

It wasn't until her ears met silence that it hit her that Yoohyeon had left.

Time really does fly when you're having fun.

And it wasn't until she felt a sharp sting on her back that she remembered that Handong had been there the whole time.

Yubin turned around. Handong was sweating and her hair was damp, her face was flushed red and there were dark circles appearing under her eyes.

"Do you know how long it was Yubin?"

Handong pushed aside her, grabbing onto her forgotten shoes and crouching down to put them on. "Eleven hours."

She knew. Yubin knew she was right to be frustrated. "Eleven hours Yubin! Six hundred and sixty minutes of hiding and waiting and worrying if Yoohyeon was going to notice there were breathing sounds coming from under the bed."

“This isn’t worth it. I’m going back.” Handong adeptly wound the strings together into a secure knot and then into a bow, before undoing it and tightening the laces and redoing it again.

Something about her nonchalance spun Yubin’s anger.

“You’d rather go back to being miserable because of that? You're so pathetic!” Yubin covered her mouth not expecting herself to lash out so badly.

It stopped Handong, if only temporarily. “It’s not just because of that. But mainly: yeah. For forty minutes I had to listen to you fucking my cousin. You know, I’ve never wanted to imagine what she sounds like in bed, but now, I don’t have to! And what was worse than having a couple have sex just above you? Forcefully slowing down your breathing and making sure that you don’t inhale or exhale too loudly so I don’t wake Yoohyeon up and she discovers that your sorry ass has been cheating and stowing me away in your apartment!”

Yubin knew she was fighting a lost battle. But she still didn’t want her to leave. She didn’t want her to give up.

She did.

.

Yubin arrived in an unsettling mood brewing between the Kims. 

She entered the mansion acting as normally as possible, hoping no one - no one being her parents - would notice that she was not only far too early, but also impossibly scruffy looking and exhausted and gripping a tote bag with a long rope inside it. She didn't think that Handong would actually try to navigate her way back here by herself on foot, but she did.

Of course, feeling guilt at the unkempt state Handong had trudged back to her apartment in, Yubin was almost obliged to give her a ride back home.

Fixing Handong's hair in the car, she ordered her to sneak in through the back as they had done many times before and stay waiting near her garden until she saw a window opening with a rope slowly being lowered down from it. 

Her decision to keep what was a tool of escape (for random outings and from life) was a good one, Yubin commended herself and gave herself an imaginary pat on the back whilst she located the bathroom and locked the door.

She half pulled half and half let Handong pull herself back in and bade her goodbye before leaving to the kitchen.

Everything had gone smoothly somehow.

Although, seeing Handong's mother pointedly ignore her return despite her desperateness to get her back made her stomach turn. She didn't think her father would react well to her running away either.

It was during dinner time when Yubin's assumption was proven correct.

She was loitering about in Handong’s mother’s room - she really shouldn’t be but she had made a bad habit of doing so anyway when the coast was exceedingly clear - that she heard shouting. It was a man. Her father. Kim Dong Hyuk: it had been Kim Dong Hyuk. He had shouted loud enough for her to have an inkling of what their conversation was about - something about her escaping and her being reckless and her mother not parenting their child correctly. This was a level of anger that Yubin had never experienced first hand before. Hearing him so furious sent a shiver down her spine.

Then there were light familiar footsteps climbing up the stairs and instead of stopping and going to the right as she thought they would, they turned left and were accompanied by another set of them and words and hushes. Words and hushes that belonged to none other than the esteemed Kim Hye-Joo. 

Shit.

Swiftly and with light feet, Yubin scrambled to find a hiding spot, the thought of climbing out of the window as Handong had done before came to mind, but she didn’t go through with it - because how was she going to close the window properly from the outside if the lock was on the inside?

Yubin held her breath. She was scared that any movement might reveal that she was hiding in the closet of all places waiting for Handong's mother and Handong to stroll in.

And they did come into the room.

What made Yubin suspicious of her mother's behaviour was the possessive hand that was constantly on Handong's wrist. Not to mention how she'd suddenly acted as if she cared now.

Then what followed Handong being roughly dragged into the room and the door being locked disturbed Yubin even more.

Knuckles stroked down Handong's wet cheek along with quiet mutters of loving and endearing words, all while her other hand let go of her Handong's wrist and began pushing her down to the ground until she was on her knees.

“No one understands you like I do honey.” Yubin grinded her teeth, that statement bothered her.

Her mother crouched slightly, still towering over her and wiped a tear.

“All those hurtful words dear, you know I’d never say them. You know that I’d never hurt you like that, right sweetheart?” Liar. She was lying. She was lying through her teeth and into Handong's waiting ears. But she must have known that it was what Handong had wanted to hear.

“I’m so sorry."

Her mother smiled at those words. "What was that sweet?"

"I’m so sorry. I’m s-so sorry. I shouldn’t h-have left you. You were right. You’re - you're always right. Hye-Joo… Don’t - don't ignore me again. Don't leave me alone again. Please. I can’t - I can’t live without you.”

Handong reached out with both hands only for them to not touch her mother as she backed away. Her tone changed, adopting a more severe one. "I told you that the only person who cared was me, didn't I? I told you that the only person you could trust was me, right?" Handong bit her lip, lowering her head and nodding ever so slightly. "Those bad men, you know I'd never stoop so low to send people out to search for you. I can't believe you'd accuse me of that. Me! Me who looked after you for endless hours, me who made sure to speak to each individual kid who ridiculed you, me who tried to protect you from other people!"

"I - I - I'm sorry." Handong curled into herself. "I - I'm s-so - I'm so sorry. I didn't - I didn't - you - you - dad - he - he - he-"

"Your father, I'm sorry I married him."

What followed was shushing and sobbing and Handong’s mother slowly undressed her with tender words and gentle hands.

So this was how Handong felt under the bed.

.

It had been nearly an hour since Yubin had entered Hye-Joo’s room, just over forty-five minutes since they had entered the room and fifteen seconds since she’d left Handong alone collapsed into the floor. Inside the closet, it was hot and damp and stuffy; and how badly she wanted to reveal her location and creak the door open for even just a second to let in fresh air grew with every minute she tried to block out the sounds coming from the bed. The same sounds she’d been able to make come out and the same airy, chesty moans she’d hear when she was trimming the hedges whilst Bora was fooling around with Handong.

Assured that Hye-Joo wouldn’t come back soon, judging by the towel and fresh change of clothes she grabbed, she fell out of the closet.

Handong didn’t notice. Or she did and she didn't react.

She was sprawled out onto the floor, with nothing except a blank expression and strings of saliva and other bodily fluids stuck onto her.

She hadn’t moved in over a minute and a half.

Yubin almost thought she was dead until she blinked slowly once, twice, and proved her worries otherwise.

Tentatively, Yubin rested a hand onto her bare shoulder, afraid to make her flinch or react suddenly. She didn’t.

“Handong-ssi.”

Her eyes were glossy and they looked far away.

“Handong-ssi.”

She put another hand onto her shoulder and clasped it.

“Handong-ssi?”

She pulled her upright and shook slightly.

“Handong-ssi?"

Her head rocked back and forth as her body was being shaken more and more aggressively as each second that she didn’t respond or even acknowledge Yubin’s existence passed.

“Handong-ssi!”

Yubin removed a hand, grimacing at how clammy and hot her skin was, and cupped her jaw.

“Handong-ssi!"

She mirrored the action with her other hand.

“Handong-ssi, say something.”

She didn’t. Instead, all she did was let her head roll to the side when Yubin let go of her jaw and hauled one of her arms around Yubin’s shoulder.

Her legs dragged across the carpet and left red raw skin from the friction.

“Hye-Joo… Does she - does she always do this?” Yubin struggled to speak properly between all the shock, fear of getting caught and exhaustion of pulling a nearly vegatative person from one side of the corridor to the other, not to mention the extra strain of balancing Handong and pulling and opening the doors while making sure she didn’t slip out of her grasp and collapse onto the floor.

Yubin laid her on her bed half supported upright from the headboard and half from Yubin’s hand that was hesitating to let go safe she fell over.

Her lips parted and Yubin’s excitement rose.

“W-w-why. Why- why - why…”

“Yes?” She encouraged. “Why...?”

“Why - why -” Handong’s eyes finally moved. They glazed over her new surroundings and fell onto Yubin’s awaiting ones. “Why d-did - why did…”

Yubin waited for her to finish her sentence, waited for her to pull herself together, waited for her stiff jaw to slacken and her mouth to start snapping at Yubin and waited for her to shout obscenities and yell at her for intruding or voyeuring or staying or not stopping her mother or anything really.

“Why-” Still hopeful, Yubin leaned in closer to her, making sure to rub her shoulder lightly to calm her down. “Who - I - I don’t - I don’t - I - I... ”

Yubin took a deep breath in, hoping that Handong would imitate her. She did. “Dong-unnie, please, take a deep breath in: ask me anything, tell me anything, shout anything. I’ll listen. I’ll care.”

“I don’t - I don’t - H-Hye - Hye-Joo. Hye-Joo.”

She finally moved.

“Hye-Joo?”

Handong raised her arm and rested it on Yubin’s shoulder.

“W-who. Who is -w ho - who is...”

Yubin gulped. “She’s your mother.”

Handong put another arm on her shoulder and let herself slip down the bed.

“M-mother - my - my...”

Yubin let her.

“Your mom.”

Handong clutched onto Yubin like a doll.

“She - she - Yubin… She -”

She felt Handong shake as she cried.

"She isn't - she…"

“I know. I know. I’m sorry Handong.” Yubin reached out and patted her hair as Handong buried herself into Yubin. She could feel tears prick her eyes, she could feel her lips wobbling. It hurt. It hurt so much. She didn’t even want to imagine what Handong went through. “I-I’m so sorry Dong-ah.” Yubin felt herself tear up and her eyes well with them. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why- why -”

Yubin hushed her to sleep, reciprocating her embrace and cradling her like a new-born.

They fell asleep crying and holding onto each other.

.

“Dong Dong! Dong Dong! Guess what!”

The door swung open, not having been locked from the night before.

“I was finally able… to... Yubin…?” Yoohyeon’s eyes took in the scene of a fully bare Handong clinging onto a lightly stirring Yubin and screamed.

**Author's Note:**

> blood, cheating, death, emotional abuse/neglect, incest (not yoodong), murder, psychological disturbance, self-harm, suicidal thoughts sexual content - but no explicit scenes, trauma


End file.
